


I Found

by kate7h



Category: Vinland Saga (Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gudfinn - Thorfinn/Gudrid (Vinland Saga), Meeting as Teenagers, Slow Burn, What if Gudrid had stowed away, What if Thorfinn had gone with Leif
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 54,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21975598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate7h/pseuds/kate7h
Summary: Canon Divergence: What if Thorfinn had gone with Leif after Askeladd died? What if Gudrid was able to successfully stowaway on Leif's boat when he travelled to York?Slowly, Gudrid walked towards the place where the boy -Thorfinn- was sitting. His face was empty of anything, his eyes down as he stared tiredly at the wood."Uh… hello," she said quietly, leaning down to speak to him. He said nothing, making no acknowledgement of her presence whatsoever."So, you're Thorfinn?"Again, nothing.She frowned again, wondering if there was anything she could do. He seemed like he'd been through something pretty rough, although she couldn't imagine what. From what Leif said, he seemed to have no problem communicating before. Now he was nearly catatonic. She couldn't help but feel sorry for him.
Relationships: Einar & Thorfinn (Vinland Saga), Gudrid & Einar (Vinland Saga), Gudrid/Thorfinn (Vinland Saga)
Comments: 180
Kudos: 189





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> _I found love where it wasn't supposed to be... right in front of me. Talk some sense to me... ___
> 
> "I Found" by Amber Run
> 
> _  
> _This is an AU that's been in my mind for a while, so I've been trying to jot it down and now there's a proper story?? It probably won't be that long, as it will mostly merge back into canon in the end. BUT this has been an interesting though experiment! I'm hoping to have it down during my break before winter semester starts in January!_  
> _  
>  Also only this intro will be in 1st person POV, the rest will be an easier to read 3rd person POV :)  
>  _  
>  _Thanks for opening this, and I hope you enjoy it!__  
> 

I know I shouldn't have done it. I know that- I mean, even if I didn't know that, Leif would still beat it into my skull until it finally sunk in… but I couldn't help it. I mean, could you blame me? What was I even to do?! Just say 'Look, Gudrid. You're a fourteen-year-old widow. You don't got much going for you. Might as well resign yourself to the fates and live the rest of your life in Greenland…' No way! I couldn't do it! I just couldn't! This was my chance at adventure and freedom!

Look, I am sad my husband died the way he did. It's pretty sad. Though I did hardly know the guy… When his crew returned from the new land across the sea with his possessions, saying he died honorably, I thought,  _ Well poor guy. That sure is sad. _ But it felt more like I was talking about an acquaintance… which is pretty much what he was. Barely knew the guy. Tulla cried though, so I did my best to comfort her. At least she knew him.

But when Leif was leaving again across to the east to trade and continue his fruitless search for that one kid who went missing ages ago, I just couldn't sit still!  _ He just  _ has  _ to let me aboard now!  _ I mean, I did try to live like a 'proper woman' like he said! I really did! It's not my fault my husband went off and died on his own! I should get to do what I want now, since I'm a widow, right? Been there, done that, ya know? I should get to go and travel like… like Aud the Deep Minded! She was pretty cool, and a sailor! She was a woman sailor and there wouldn't be a soul in Iceland if not for her, right? I bet she would've decked Leif if he'd ever told her  _ she  _ should live like a 'proper woman…'

Whatever. I'm here now, and it's too late for him to stop me.. I wore him down through attrition, and as I sit on top of the mast, my heart's racing as I look out over the awe-inspiring waves. I wonder what I'll see when we arrive in England.


	2. Lost

The market was packed, crowded with so many people, it was hard to maneuver through them. There were frantic whispers and huddled people, talking of murder. Assassination.  _ "The King's been killed!"  _

_ "What about the prince? Wasn't he here too?" _

Leif felt cold sweat on his neck, hearing it all, afraid. Thorfinn was one of the prince's personal guards… if something had happened to Prince Canute, something had happened to Thorfinn.

_ "I heard Prince Canute killed the assassin himself." _

_ "I don't believe it!" _

He couldn't fathom this. How could this have happened so quickly. All right now?  _ I just found the boy! I just found him!  _

He apologized to Mord in his head, knowing he'd been searching too long, at least in his son's point of view, and yet he couldn't stop now. This chaos, this assassination… it didn't bode well. There was something in his old bones that was telling him that if he didn't find Thorfinn now, then he would never see the boy again.

He gritted his teeth, pushing onward.  _ I promised Thors… I  _ will  _ bring him home! If I have to bind him up and drag him on my ship, I'll bring that boy home!  _

Hours seemed to pass. Hours of crowds and chaos and false alarms. But it was different now. He knew Thorfinn was here. He knew what he looked like currently. If he could just see him again, take hold of him, he could bring him back. Bar anything he'd done, bar the last eleven years, he didn't care at all. Everything could be sorted out later.  _ Just… where are you, Thorfinn?!  _

At last, he caught sight of him. His back was to him. Same ragged clothes, same unkempt hair, same sheath for a dagger strapped to his belt. He was being dragged between two soldiers… 

_ Oh no... _

Leif ran through the crowd, desperately ignoring his tired lungs and legs. Thorfinn wasn't even trying to get away, let alone walk. He was just letting them pull him through the dirty, cobblestone street. He was so different than he’d seen before- only a day before! He looked worse… broken, empty…  _ What could’ve happened in such a short time?! Was he there when the king had died?  _

“Wait! Wait, please!” He shouted, reaching for them.  _ Don’t take him! Don’t take him away again!  _

It took some more shouting and running, but -thank the heavens- the soldiers turned, their hands gripping the shoulders of the boy. Thorfinn's hands were bound behind his back. He didn’t even see him, didn’t raise his eyes once. 

“Where are you taking that boy?”

The soldiers glanced at each other before one spoke in a detached voice. “What’s it to you, old man?”

“He’s a relative!” Leif said quickly, sure they were going to ignore him. “He’s the son of a friend. I need to bring him home.”

“This boy attacked Prince Canute. He’s been sold into slavery as punishment,” the soldier said, beginning to turn. 

Thorfinn still didn’t look up. It was as if he couldn’t hear at all. 

Leif shook his head. “I- I’ll pay! I’ll pay for him! Whatever the price, I don’t care. Please!”

The eyes behind those helms were cold, unfeeling and unmoved. Leif gritted his teeth. 

“I’ve been searching for him for eleven years! Please,” he felt tears trace down his face, his hands shaking as he held his coin purse to them. “Please…”

“If you have double the going rate,” the soldier said simply. “You can take him. But leave this town tonight.”

Leif didn’t even consider how much that was. He was sure they were seeking to line their own pockets, but he didn’t care.  _ Thorfinn is right here! I can’t let him go! _ “Of course, yes. Of course.” 

After exchanging the money to the soldiers, they shoved Thorfinn at Leif and walked away. Leif breathed a sigh of relief, grasping tightly to his arm. Thorfinn was unsteady, seemingly like he was ready to collapse at any point. Leif frowned deeper, wondering if he could carry him to the ship, should that happen- but they would cross that bridge when they came to it. He took his knife from the sheath and quickly cut the bonds wrapped around his wrists, releasing him. Without another word, Leif pulled Thorfinn into his arms for a second time in those long years, embracing him fervently. He was stiff as stone, unresponsive to Leif. 

Leif released the embrace, holding Thorfinn by the shoulders. He didn’t say a word, didn’t look up. He looked almost entirely empty as his eyes wandered over the ground, sunken and dull. 

“Thank goodness I found you, Thorfinn,” Leif said, the tears running down his face. “Will you come with me now?”

Thorfinn blinked, his lips parted as he looked so impossibly tired. “Why…?”

Leif huffed, feeling the determination again to make this right. Finally after so many years, he would make it all right. “Because you’re family. I don’t care where you’ve been or what you’ve done. You’re family."

Finally his dull, brown eyes met the old man’s, a touch of confusion intermixed with the emptiness, but he said nothing. It felt as though he was looking through him, unable to actually focus on what was before him. 

_ No,  _ Leif thought emphatically.  _ It'll be alright. He can come back from this. It'll take time, but he's not lost anymore.  _ "Your family has been waiting for a long time for you.”

Still, Thorfinn said nothing. Leif saw in him a reflection of his searching, of all the faces of the hopeless. The people enslaved and stripped down to nothing but barely their lives. He could see it in this child's eyes.  _ He has nothing. How could it have come to this?  _ All he'd had was that rage Leif has seen before. Something happened to take that away from him, and now he was as empty as the rest of those poor unfortunate people.  _ Thors, how am I to save this boy?  _

“Your father would want you to come home to them, wouldn’t he?”

A blink, then another wave of weariness seemed to pass over him. “F- father…”

More tears streamed from Leif's eyes as he nodded. "Yes, Thorfinn. You must return to the home your father built, and the family you share."

Finally the boy moved, his uninjured arm touching the empty sheath hanging from his belt. He didn't speak, but his face seemed to gain a new layer of hopelessness and defeat. He dropped his hand, and Leif wasn't sure what he should say. 

He shook off that feeling. Gently, he grasped Thorfinn by the shoulder again, holding onto him securely and he pulled him to walk. "Come, my ship isn't far."

Silently, Thorfinn dragged his feet as he walked with Leif. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'll be working on the rest during this break! Look forward to more very soon! Please leave a comment and let me know what you think!


	3. End of the Introduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one’s a bit short! I was trying to extend it, but I couldn’t really add the next part. Next chapter will be longer as we actually start with this story getting some momentum. Thank you for reading!

"Where could he be?" Mord said, anger and worry apparent in his words. 

It had been a few hours since they'd finished selling the wares they could in York, yet there was still no sign of Leif.

Gudrid frowned as the other sailors worried amongst themselves. It was obvious what Leif was trying to do. He'd found that kid that ran away all those years ago, but he refused to come with him. That had all happened yesterday. It made sense that Leif wouldn't have given up so easily. Still, she was worried too. It was dark now, and with all the rumors and death in this city, Mord was pretty insistent that they move on. 

_ Poor Leif,  _ she thought sadly, wondering at the situation.  _ Poor kid…  _

"Hey, there he is!" One of the men yelled, and Gudrid ran to the side of the ship, seeing the old man walking along the dock. And he wasn't alone. 

Mord stopped, his eyes wide as he gaped. "P- Pops! Is that-!?"

"Come and help me out, Mord," Leif said.

The boy who was with Leif was about the same height as him. It was a little hard to see with the darkness, but he looked haggard and slumped, like he was barely standing. Gudrid ran closer as Mord went and grabbed the kid, pulling him to lean on him instead of Leif and got him aboard the ship. Being closer now, she could see his face now. He looked… like nothing she'd ever seen. For one thing, he was covered in bruises- his left eye was slightly swollen and she was pretty sure his nose was broken- but aside from all that… His face was blank, eyes staring at nothing even as the men pulled him forward. Gudrid felt almost frozen at the sight. 

_ He'd been a little kid when he ran away…  _ But that wasn't the face of a kid. It didn't even seem like the face of a normal person. The only thing she could think was when her little brother had been so sick that one winter, so close to death, they were already considering preparing a grave.

_ That's what it is…  _ She swallowed, staring at the hollowness there.  _ He feels like a ghost… like he's already dead... _

"We're heading out tonight?" Mord asked incredulously. "But it's already dark, Pops."

Leif shook his head, pulling out an oar. "Thorfinn was sold as a slave for attacking the prince. They only let me have him for double, so it'd be better if we left this town before anyone who knows him sees him walking free."

They continued to converse, preparing to set out. But the curiosity and sadness began to get the better of her. Slowly, she walked towards the place where the boy -Thorfinn- was sitting. His face was still empty of anything, his eyes down as he stared tiredly at the wood. 

"Uh… hello," she said quietly, leaning down to speak to him. He said nothing, making no acknowledgement of her presence whatsoever. 

"So, you're Thorfinn?"

Again, nothing.

She frowned deeper, wondering if there was anything she could do. He seemed like he'd been through something pretty rough, although she couldn't imagine what. From what Leif said, he seemed to have no problem communicating before. Now he was practically catatonic. She couldn't help but feel sorry for him, all broken up, covered in blood and wounds - closer now, she could see his arm was in a splint.  _ What even happened to you, kid?! _

Realizing she wasn't going to get anywhere like this, she stepped away and grabbed a heavy blanket. Walking back to him, she wrapped it about his shoulders, trying to warm him against the chill of the winter night. 

"It gets pretty cold on the ship, and I guess we're gonna sail through the night, so that'll make it even colder," she said as she knelt in front of him, trying to close it enough in the front, as he made no move to do it himself. Still, he did nothing that told her he even noticed her presence. Her heart ached a bit further as she watched his dull and sunken eyes look so utterly lifeless. Whatever happened to him was bad… probably such a terrible thing, she couldn’t imagine.

"I dunno what you went through," she started, still kneeling in front of him. "But I hope it'll be a little better now."

His eyes shifted, looking at her blankly without a word. His brown eyes looked almost grey in the dull light as he blinked at her. In them, she saw hopelessness and misery she wasn’t sure she could comprehend… She didn’t even know him, but it hurt to see.  _ But hey, at least he's looking at me! That’s a start, right? _

She forced a bright smile on her face, gaining even just a touch of relief at that. Before she could speak further, Leif called her over to help row. 

"I'm coming!" She shouted back. 

Before getting up, she turned back to Thorfinn. He was still looking at her with what looked like tired confusion. She smiled again. "My name's Gudrid, by the way."

She touched a hand to his shoulder, trying to show her compassion to him. "I- it's gonna be okay now."

With that, she stood and ran to the bench to help get the ship underway. When she glanced back at Thorfinn, his eyes were down once again, his hand holding the blanket closed around him. His face looked… sad. Even just looking at him broke her heart.

_ That's it,  _ she decided as she pulled her oar through the dark water.  _ I'm gonna help him as much as I can.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Please please let me know what you think! There’s really no greater motivator than feedback on a creative work! Thanks! Stay tuned for the next chapter!


	4. Nothingness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally some Thorfinn POV, right??

Thorfinn couldn’t seem to think, couldn’t even see straight. The world seemed like it was slanted, turning and rotating at the edges of his eyes. It would start to close in on him before opening up again. A loud pulsing sounded in his ears, drowning out the sound of the waves of the sea- and the words of these people he was with. 

Leif was there. Despite the fraying of the world, he'd felt the man’s embrace as he’d clung to him- twice now. First when they’d reunited on the pier, second after Canute had sold him… There were others, but he couldn’t see them. He couldn’t hear them. All there was was the shouts and cries of terrified nobles, the spray of blood, the cackling of  _ that man  _ as he hacked apart anyone who came near him. 

Canute… driving a sword into his heart...

_ Askeladd…  _ The object of his rage, the man around which his entire life meaning had centered… was dead. 

_ “Haven’t you even given a thought to what you’re going to live for after I’m dead, Thorfinn?”  _

His words echoed hollowly in his empty head. He couldn’t pull up even a conception of their meaning, only the sound of Askeladd’s voice, weak and full with blood in his throat, was present in his mind. 

Empty… Failure… Nothing. 

He shut his eyes against the vibrating and warping world around him, pressing a hand to his forehead. 

“Can’t be real…” he heard himself mutter, jaw tensed as his legs felt limp. In fact, all of his muscles each felt strangely tense and loose at the same time. He was sure if he tried to stand, he’d fall over immediately. His chest was tight, like he couldn't get enough air into his lungs. It almost felt like he was drowning.

_ If Askeladd is dead now… it’s over.  _

What did that mean, anyway? What the hell did that mean?  _ Askeladd  _ is  _ dead. But Father is still dead too… What was the point in all this? What did I get from this last decade? What… what do I…? _

_ … _

_ Now Leif is taking me home… _

He couldn’t fathom that last one. Couldn’t process it. It was too foreign and alien, too outlandish. Too unrealistic. There was no home, no family. He was alone in this world. There was no one- no one anywhere who would... 

...He didn’t even know what he’d want someone to do with him. Or want from him. The only people he’d known for years and years were Askeladd, Bjorn, and their crew. Then Thorkell came along, then Canute. Then it was over. 

Over. 

_ What now?  _

“Hey you.”

Words again, the sounds being scattered by the rapid pulsing and pounding in his head. He squeezed his eyes tighter, feeling himself sway a bit with the rocking of the merchant ship. 

“Hey!” The voice continued, and he nearly shook his head.  _ I can’t hear anymore. I can’t see. What’s the point now? What am I good for now? _

It was the touch that roused him from his despondency. A hand tapped his shoulder, giving him a light shove… and he was on his feet three feet away in less than a blink, hands raised defensively as he held aloft the last knife he had.  _ I lost father’s knife… I lost it…  _

The person who stood before him was that girl… the one who'd given him the blanket that first night.  _ Gudrid. _ She was young by the looks of it- probably younger than however old he himself was. She looked startled, eyes wide as she took him in. She held a bowl in one hand, and a waterskin in the other. 

“What’re you doing, weirdo?!” Gudrid exclaimed, a heavy frown on her face. “You don’t eat for like two days, and now you straight up attack the one bringing you something? Yeesh!”

He didn’t reply, but he watched as she set the bowl down on the crate he’d been sitting on.  _ Soup.  _

“Here,” she extended the waterskin out to him, waiting expectantly for him to take it from her. “Here!”

His arms were still raised, a knife in his hand, and his stance low and threatening. This girl wasn’t a threat. His muscles softened and he slacked his stance, letting his arms fall before sliding the knife back into its sheath. With her still holding the water out to him, he stepped forward, taking it from her hand. 

“Wow, you’re pretty chatty, huh?” Gudrid said, but Thorfinn didn’t say anything. He just stared blankly at her- past her. The ocean continued to roil out past the boat. He didn't want to talk to her, or at all. He didn't know what he wanted. All he could think was that his body felt heavy… tired. That burst of jumping up to defend against an attack almost felt like he'd spent an entire day swimming in freezing water. He was exhausted.

Without a word, he sat back down on the wood, holding the waterskin between his hands and ignoring the bowl. 

Gudrid sat beside him, an energy coming from her that was tiring just to be around.

"So how old are you, anyway?" she asked. "'Cause I know Leif's been looking for you for a long time, but you don't seem like you're that much older than me."

_ I don't know,  _ he thought, unsure of how many years had passed. He couldn't even remember what age he'd been when it had all began. 

"Well, I'm fourteen, so I think you're probably around sixteen, right? You are kinda short, but it's been like ten years Leif's been looking for you. He'd probably know, so I could just ask him, if you're not gonna tell me," she continued, not seeming to care that he hadn't responded.

Thorfinn glanced at her before taking a drink of water. Had it been even a few days ago, he would've told her to just piss off… but he found he didn't care anymore. He was too tired. What was there to care about anyway? 

"Ya know, before this, I'd never even left Greenland. Leif wasn't gonna take me with him and all that, but I couldn't sit around anymore. I just had to go and see  _ something!  _ And I already got married and all that, so I should be able to do what I want now, since I did what he said a girl should do. It's not my fault it didn't work out! I had no say in him wanting to go to Vinland, but I guess all that doesn't matter anymore."

His ears perked at her words- well, really just one word. He didn’t know why she was saying so many other ones to him. 

“Vinland-?” His voice was rough and quiet from disuse. 

Gudrid blinked looking at him with surprise before she smiled again. “Hey, you talked!”

Thorfinn felt himself scowl a bit, but didn’t speak again. It didn’t seem to faze the girl as she continued to smile at him. 

“What about Vinland?” She questioned, seemingly happy to find an opening in him. 

Thorfinn frowned heavier.  _ What about Vinland?  _ For starters, it seemed like the only thing- the only concept in his entire life which didn’t feel entirely empty. It was a dream, a haven, some kind of paradise across the sea in the west. It was warm air and soft grass swaying in the breeze. It was his father alive and well, living there together with their family. 

“You haven’t been there…?” He murmured out the question. 

Gudrid shook her head. “No, I mean I already said this is my first time being anywhere but Greenland, so of course Thorstein didn’t bring me to Vinland with him.”

“Thorstein… is your…?”

“My husband,” Gudrid nodded. “Well, he’s my late husband now. Left me a widow and all.”

For some strange reason, he'd excluded death of any kind in his mind when thinking about Vinland. It was supposed to be a perfection. Death had no place there… and yet now he learned this girl was made a widow because of Vinland. Death and destruction existed everywhere. Where was there to run, if that was the case?

Gudrid tilted her head at him curiously, like she was expecting something of him. He didn't really care. He sighed, looking up and out towards the horizon.

“My father… he wanted to go there…”

If she spoke to him anymore, he didn't hear it. He looked on, feeling nothing but the empty pit inside of him- a vacuum where nothing seemed to be at all. All that despair he'd felt, the frustration, the rage, those powerful flames of vengeance which had been sustained within him for all these years were somehow snuffed out the instant Askeladd had been…

_ Do I care what Father would have wanted anymore? Did I care to begin with?  _

Those words he'd tried to remove from his thoughts came back to him from time to time, and now was no exception.

_ "You have no enemies… there is no one in the world that deserves to be hurt."  _

He'd spent a lot of time telling himself those were false. It wasn't true. He was constantly surrounded by enemies. Everyone hurt one another. Everyone  _ killed  _ one another. At least those who killed deserved to be hurt, right?

Now, he didn't know what to think. He didn't know how to feel. It was all stripped away. Maybe he should scream, maybe he should rage, or cry, or curse the world in its meaninglessness… but he felt nothing. He did nothing. 

He stared out past the sea, seeing nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to say thank you for the couple people who have commented! Thanks so much! To others aside from those two: please please comment on fanfics, guys. Content creators like myself put a lot of work into such creations, it's a lot of time and energy to bring these things to you with nothing in return, and I'm happy to do it! It makes me happy! But it is pretty discouraging getting a fair number of views but almost no feedback whatsoever. So please, do me and other content creators a favor by letting us know what you think! Let us know what you liked! I know it always _always _makes me day to see that I got a comment on my fics or art!__
> 
> __Thank you so much for your time! I hope you're looking forward to more chapters of this guy! Please please please leave a comment! <3_ _


	5. Did You Want to See the World too?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to have this finished before the end of Christmas break, but I guess when you've got the time, you don't have to mentality... but I've been writing this frantically since I started up school again on wednesday, and I'm really excited for it! Soon we'll have some action-packed chapters!

"This is sloppy, do it again," Leif said, examining Gudrid's stitch work on the sail.

"Aw c'mon, it's not that bad!" She whined. "It just matches the rest of this crappy thing."

"Honestly, I've never seen such a sloppy stitch, are you trying to mess it up?" Leif laughed, nudging her with a foot.

She swatted at him, her face flushing with irritation. "Um, no I'm not. It's just… not really my thing, ya know?"

"Uh huh," Leif made a face at her. "Well, I can't deny that you're actually decent at sailing, which numbers as one of the few skills I've seen you be successful at."

She brightened, beaming up at him. "Really?!"

Leif shook a hand in front of her. "Ah ah, no, don't you be getting any ideas, kid. You're only here because it was too late to turn back. Once we take Thorfinn back to Iceland, your butt is going straight back to Greenland where it belongs. No more stowing away."

At the mention of the boy, Gudrid's eyes wandered across the grass to where he sat, his face looking the same as it always seemed to: empty and miserable. Nothing she did or said ever seemed to change a thing. He was just… there, but almost not there at all. One time she’d poked him in the face just to see if he really was real. He’d barely even looked at her. 

"What is it?" Leif asked when she didn't respond."

"I wonder if there's anything I can do," Gudrid said thoughtfully.

He blinked, then followed her eyes to the boy sitting staring at nothing. There was a bird pecking the ground beside his feet. Leif turned back to her, shaking his head. "Best to leave him be, Gudrid."

She wondered if that really was what was best. He genuinely seemed… lonely. Lost. Completely lacking any sort of connection with anyone.

"But you talk to him," she replied, and Leif huffed.

"I've known him and his family for longer than he's been missing. He knows me at least."

“Nah, I don't think that's the issue, not knowing me," she pondered. "I wonder if he just needs people in general. I mean, look at him."

“Just stay out of his hair, Gudrid,” Leif sighed. “He’s been through hell. He doesn’t need you hanging around. He’ll be home soon enough.”

Gudrid sighed, but decided not to keep arguing. With one last look at the boy, she turned back to her terrible sewing. 

_ Home, huh? _ She wondered what his home was like. Was it anything like her own? Why’d he leave it behind? How’d he run away like that, being so young? 

Her own home was filled with kids who looked just like her, almost. Jet black hair and big brown eyes, every last one of them. Her little sister always got nosebleeds on summer nights, and her oldest brother smiled crooked after he’d broken his jaw ice fishing. They’d all played and laughed together, helping their parents keep the vik alive and well, surviving through each and every winter. She’d loved them dearly, but when the opportunity arose to leave them, she didn’t even care if it was because she would be married, she just wanted out… Out and out further than the ice-rimmed shores, out past the lines curving and looping in the sand. She wanted nothing more than to journey past every border Leif had drawn, and see what lies beyond. 

Turning her eyes back to Thorfinn, she tilted her head.  _ I wonder… did he want to see the world too?  _

* * *

The girl, Gudrid, didn't seem to want to leave him alone. It was strange… kind of aggravating, as much as he could feel aggravation when everything else was just numb. He didn't understand her. He understood Leif- the man already had a connection to him. He would go out of his way to care for him, make him eat, talk to him, whatever. He understood the rest of the crew. They did their best to stay out of the way, leave him to himself. He didn't know them, they didn't know him. It was fine. But Gudrid was different. She sought him out, more often than not. She wanted to be in his company. To the point where, at times, Leif would remove her and send her off to do something else so that she would leave him alone. Thorfinn didn't really know what to think of it. But he didn't think all that much anyway, preferring to let his mind be the empty slate it was now. Not thinking meant not feeling, and not feeling meant not hurting.

"Your arm seems to be healing," Leif murmured as he examined the limb. Thorfinn mutely held it out to the old man, staring at nothing tiredly. "Whomever set it for you was quite skilled."

"Askeladd…" Thorfinn muttered. "Did that…"

Leif looked up, his eyes a bit wider, but Thorfinn didn't acknowledge it. He stared on, letting the man think what he would. He didn't care.

With a sigh, Leif turned away, releasing the boy's arm. Thorfinn drew it back to himself, barely wincing at the movement of the healing bones. 

"Thorfinn, you…" he began, looking up inquisitively. "Do you want to come back home?"

Thorfinn didn't turn, didn't even give an indication of emotion. He simply blinked, feeling like he was inside a fog bank. He could hear, but it was muffled. he could see, but it was clouded. Home was both of those things. Mother and Ylva existed, but were nothing but vague silhouettes of a life he no longer knew.

"I don't want anything," he muttered simply.

Leif frowned, unwrapping the clean cloth to bind up his arm once more. 

"Hey Pops, we're coming up on Norwicke," Mord shouted from the end of the boat.

The old man looked up, then called back an acknowledgement before beginning to rise.

"It will take time to return to Iceland, Thorfinn, as we're still coming through the end of winter. We may take our time trading around the coast of England and then return in the spring."

Thorfinn didn't acknowledge his words, staring at the ground.

Leif sighed, leaning down again to grasp Thorfinn's shoulder. "You have some time to prepare yourself, and I suggest you do that."

Still, he said nothing. He kept his eyes down, looking at the ground tiredly.

Leif sighed again before turning away. "Gudrid, come bind his arm again, will you?"

"Ah- okay!" she said, coming over as Leif stood.

Before she could kneel down, Leif grasped her shoulder, muttering something to her. Gudrid scoffed, and spoke to him irritated, but Thorfinn was already tuning them out. He turned his eyes to the sea, the waves crashing and pulling. 

She knelt beside him and tugged at his arm. He let her, saying nothing to her, but even as disconnected he felt to the world, he knew at least that she would have many things to say at him. He elected to ignore her.

"Geez, you're pretty torn up, ya know that?" she said, stating the obvious. "I mean, ouch, your nose is broken too, huh?"

When he said nothing again, she let out an exasperated sigh. "Yeesh, is it  _ always  _ gonna be like pulling teeth to even have a conversation with you?! I know you can talk!"

He blinked, turning his eyes to her with a tired scowl, meant to convey something along the lines of 'piss off,' but she just smiled brilliantly, taking it as a form of communication, he supposed.  _ Whatever… she can think what she wants… moron.  _

"Well, I suppose that kinda counts, ya grump," Gudrid laughed, and Thorfinn turned his scowl towards the ground, too heavy to even care to find any words for her.

Before she could begin on his arm, she started. “Oh! Actually I might something that’ll help!” She scrambled to her feet and ran off before he could even react. He blinked, watching her run off suddenly. 

He raised a brow, watching as she rummaged through a trunk.  _ She’s… so strange…  _

After a few minutes, she came back with a small jar in her hand and settled to kneel beside his broken arm once again. 

“This might help some of the swelling,” she said, grasping his wrist gently and spreading the ointment over the scabbed area.

He watched her blankly, confused. She went out of her way to do this, use her own supplies on him. And for what? She didn’t even know him. 

Once she got the salve spread evenly, she bound his arm once more in a splint. He winced a bit at the pressure, but he was used to such pain… After she finished with that, she moved to sit right in front of him, leaning in close to his face. He jerked back from her, leaving her with a surprised expression. 

“What?” She asked, dipping her fingers in the jar once more. “Your face needs some help too.”

She reached out and grasped his shoulder, pulling him back to where he was before. Then her hand moved to hold his chin lightly as she began to rub the ointment on his skin. He looked away, his eyes down as he seemingly couldn’t escape from her. He felt uncomfortable in the silence between them, her being so close to him, touching his face. The medicine was pungent, leafy…  _ Usually she talks, doesn't she?  _

Gudrid’s fingers brushed over his swollen eye. He let it close, finding himself watching her with his right. 

“This might be rude to ask,” she started after a long pause. “But why’d you leave Iceland in the first place?”

Thorfinn’s eyes met hers, blinking slowly. He would’ve thought Leif would’ve mentioned it, but he supposed not. Leif treated this girl impatiently, kept telling her she was going to stay in Greenland when they returned. So he supposed the lack of information made sense. 

He sighed, looking down again, feeling that cold emptiness inside of him seep through his blood and into his lungs. “Revenge… for the dishonorable killing of my father…”

Gudrid’s eyes widened, her fingers stilling briefly before she turned back to rubbing the balm on his face. “Oh…”

He wasn’t sure what to do now, he just felt uncomfortable and small. Like a foolish, stupid kid. Askeladd’s words were something that hadn’t left his head. 

_ “This is how you kill someone you truly hate… you’ve have eleven years. That makes you a clown.” _

_ “What’re you going to do when I’m dead?”  _

_ “Move on… go beyond the world Thors saw…” _

_ “Be a true warrior… son of Thors…”  _

They all swirled through his head like flying arrows, piercing him from the inside out. Dull pain emanated from him as he shivered, unsure of what to think. 

“Did… did you get it?” Gudrid asked quietly, almost apprehensively. “Revenge?”

He swallowed, wishing he could turn off his thoughts. 

“No,” he breathed, feeling his voice quiver slightly. 

Before he could say anymore, the girl leaned into him, wrapping her arms about him as she gave him a brief hug. His eyes widened, blinking incredulously at her as she gave him a squeeze. 

“I’m sorry, that must’ve been hard,” She muttered before releasing him. 

“U- uh…” was the only thing he could think to say to her.  _ W- what in the world?  _ He had no words. Why would she hug him? Why should she care? He didn't know. He really didn't… but he felt warmth from the brief embrace. It reminded him of faded memories, of the smiling face of his mother, of his sister… of kind hands combing through his hair...

So strange.

She didn't say much after that, just leaned forward to grasp his chin gently, finishing spreading the ointment onto his skin. He breathed in a slow breath, exorcising it from his thoughts, reaching for the nothing once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I know this one was a bit boring, but hang in there and there'll be more excitement to come! Please leave a comment! Thank you very much!


	6. Payment in Kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While trading at a port town with Leif, Thorfinn is recognized as One of its previous raiders.

A whole month had passed since Leif had found Thorfinn once again. Everytime they passed through a port town, every time he saw the slaves on market, he had to catch himself from searching among the faces, searching for the long lost boy. There was no need to search, he was here now. Broken and empty and hurt in a way that he couldn’t figure out how to even try to help… but he was found. He was well, healing physically at least, and he hadn't tried to run away again. 

Leif watched as Gudrid sat beside him, talking incessantly to him, as she was want to do. Maybe because they were close in age? He didn't know, but she oftentimes ignored Leif when he told her to leave him be. But… the boy did talk to her more than others on the ship, himself included. He put a hand to his chin, considering. Maybe it wasn't a bad thing, her almost forcing him to open up. Heaven knows Leif's quiet, respectful approach wasn't working as well. Maybe she was onto something. 

_ "He needs people, don't you think?"  _ Gudrid had asked him when he'd told her off for almost the tenth time.  _ "I think he doesn't know it, but I'm sure everyone needs people."  _

Leif sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, looking back to the kids. There wasn't much reaction from Thorfinn, but he could see him speak to her, and listen to her when she spoke. He figured he'd continue to watch and wait, determine what the best solution was, because it didn't seem that Gudrid was wrong. 

They landed in a port town where Leif had friends- which was more common than not, as he'd spent his professional life successfully cultivating relationships across the countries. With every port they'd stopped by, Leif had had Thorfinn stay on the boat, worried he'd run off on his own, but maybe Gudrid was correct. Maybe being around more people would be good for him.

He walked over to where Thorfinn and Gudrid were seated, listening to their conversation before interjecting. 

“-Nope, no way, I don’t believe you,” Gudrid said bluntly. 

Thorfinn blinked blankly. “Huh?”

“Bears are white! Not black! What the heck are you talking about?!”

He seemed tiredly surprised at her outburst before leaning his face in his hand, shrugging. “Maybe in Greenland. Not in Norway or England.”

Gudrid looked far too excited, her eyes glittering with wonder. “Wow! That’s crazy! You've seen one up close then?”

"Are you stupid?" Thorfinn muttered, looking at her incredulously. "You'd be dead, getting that close to a bear."

Gudrid hummed, folding her arms. "Yeah, I suppose you're right. To fight a bear would be insane. I wonder if the meat is even worth it, huh?"

"Never had it before," Thorfinn said quietly. "A hunt like that isn’t worth the energy."

"What have you had? I'm sure there's tons of animals here in England that aren't in Greenland, right? I'm still getting used to there being trees and stuff," Gudrid said, talking animatedly.

"Yeah, because there's nothing in Greenland," he muttered before folding his arms. "There's rabbits, deer, wolves-"

"-Wolves?!"

He simply nodded and continued. "Ducks and geese and pheasants. There are foxes and squirrels, but those aren't really worth it either, since there's not much meat on them."

"But- you've hunted wolves?" Gudrid gaped, and Thorfinn shook his head. 

"No, that's stupid. But I've killed wolves that have hunted me."

Gudrid continued to gape, her eyes wide as she sat back again. "Oooh, okay then."

Leif couldn't help but feel that familiar pang in his chest at the thought. This boy truly had seen it all, then. It amazed and saddened him beyond belief how much Thorfinn had gone through, and the boy had been right, he had no idea. Everything he'd worked for, to have it snatched from him and leave him bare…

_ But that's better, isn't it?  _ He thought with remorse. It's better for the boy to be left bare, not pumped full of that eleven-year rage fermenting within him. When Leif had found him first, Thorfinn wouldn't have come with him- no matter what. He had such hatred in his heart, wrapping his life in knots around that man. Leif felt bad thinking it, but he was glad that Thorfinn hadn't been the one to kill Askeladd. He didn't know how that would've played out for Thorfinn, but Leif had the impression that it would've been far worse for the boy to have gotten what he wanted…

He brushed the thoughts aside and strode forward. That man was dead now, and Thorfinn was here, alive and breathing, and taking steps into the future, whether he wanted to or not. If there was anything Leif could do to increase that growth, he would.

"Thorfinn, let's try your hand at some trading!" Leif called, making his way over to the two.

Thorfinn looked up, immediate exhaustion on his face. "Why?"

Leif smiled brightly, handing him a rolled-up rug. "Gaining some new experiences; working for your food and passage. Take your pick."

He said nothing to that, but took the rug regardless.

Gudrid smiled brilliantly at him. “Can I come too?”

Leif scoffed, but she was just so eager at every turn. Even after years and  _ years  _ of pitching her butt of his boat, she still gleamed those puppy-dog eyes. “Why not?”

She skipped excitedly, then grasped Thorfinn’s arm. “C’mon, let’s go!”

“Oi,” the boy interjected, even as he let her drag him along. 

Leif scratched his head at it, smiling softly.  _ Maybe the girl is good for him,  _ he thought, following the kids. Gudrid always had her own way of doing things, whether it was proper or not. She was bull headed and stubborn, but kind and generous too. As she tugged him along, he could see her talking to Thorfinn as they made their way off the ship- Thorfinn having freed himself from her grasp. But still… Leif could almost make out a small- not smile, because that had yet to come back to him- but there was a kind of ease on the boy’s face. Something that wasn't exhaustion or empty misery. He blinked, but a moment later it was gone. 

He hummed thoughtfully, lifting a burlap sack over his shoulder. 

The town was smaller than he recalled. There were fewer houses and fewer people alike. The telltale signs of raiders remained, even after the people had rebuilt. Scorch marks were visible on the grass, and on the trunks of some of the trees. The rubbled houses had been dismantled as much as they could be, bits reused for rebuilding. Leif had a deep, uncomfortable feeling in his gut, but wasn’t entirely sure what to do with it. He’d come to raided villages before, but it felt different… like he should turn his company around immediately. 

_ But we need supplies…  _ Although in the state they were in, it was possible they didn’t have much to trade anyway. 

He walked up to the small shop open near the dock, Thorfinn and Gudrid trailing behind him. “Hello, good ma’am,” he greeted her with a courteous smile. “Do you know where I might find Brande the grey?”

The woman looked weary, but smiled up at him anyways. “Leif Erikson, it’s been a while, huh?”

He nodded, sobering. “Yes it has. It seems you’ve had a rough time of it here…”

Brande nodded. “That’s true… our village was raided last spring. We did our best to escape and salvage the rest. It’s been a hard fight, but we’ve scrounged up enough for those of us left to survive the winter.”

Leif nodded, again that nervous discomfort stirring within him. “Well, I don’t know if you’ve got anything to spare, but I’ve got my trading goods I can deal with. I’ll give you a generous price, too.” 

She smiled wide, laughing heartily. “Leif the lucky, you’re too kind!”

He chuckled, then turned and nudged Thorfinn forward, gesturing for him to show her the merchandise. Thorfinn said nothing, but looked down as he held up the pelt. Brande hummed, examining the skin. 

“I really can’t imagine those seals you have up there in Greenland, Leif.”

“They’re a wonder, for sure,” Leif smiled. “If it’s alright with you, I was thinking a trade for-“

“You!” A scream stopped his words short. Leif turned with Brande, gaping at another woman, a fearful, enraged expression on her face. 

Leif blinked at her. “Uh… excuse me?”

The woman scowled, eyes wide as she grasped her basket in one hand and pointed with the other past Leif… directly at Thorfinn. Leif looked to him too. The boy’s eyes were tired, looking at her with confusion. 

“He’s- he’s one of the invaders!” She cried, raising a commotion in the rest of the village, their eyes turning to Thorfinn as well. “He’s the one who killed my brother!”

Leif felt sick to his stomach as he processed what was happening.  _ So… it was Askeladd’s crew…  _ The seal pelt fell to the ground as Thorfinn seemed to go slack, a kind of nothingness filling his face.  _ Oh hell, I’ve gotta get him outta here… _

There was more shouting from the crowd, it growing as more people recognized the boy. It hurt to see as he stood quietly, fists clenched and shoulders tensed. Leif was at a loss for words, for explanation- which wasn’t something that often happened to him. There could be no “this is some kind of misunderstanding,” or “it couldn’t be him.” It could. It was. The fact was Thorfinn had grown to be a violent man, living as a pirate for eleven years, killing without thought or restraint. If these people said he was a murderer, Leif was inclined to believe them. And Thorfinn’s silence only solicited that belief. 

"It is! He’s the same viking boy!" Someone else cried, pointing their finger directly at Thorfinn as the shouts grew louder as more people joined the crowd. Leif gaped, looking from the accusers to the boy. 

Thorfinn blinked, looking up in surprise. The first woman bared her teeth, clutching a large rotten cabbage from her basket. "How dare you! How dare you come back here, heathen! Murderer!"

Leif tried to step in to mediate, but she threw the vegetable. Thorfinn didn't move, letting it splatter against his hair.

"Hey! Knock it off!" Gudrid shouted back, standing in front of Thorfinn with her arms spread, protecting him, despite the accusations. 

There was more shouting, and Leif tried and failed to calm the crowd. Even as he tried to speak on the boy's behalf, he knew that the people were justified in their anger against him. 

Thorfinn just… stood there. His eyes looking at nothing, even as the people screamed at him in the beginnings of a mob. This was going to turn even more ugly very soon. 

"Mord," Leif said to his son. "Get Thorfinn back on the ship, quickly."

Mord nodded, nervousness on his face. "Pops, this port might be off to us from now on… should I get ready to sail as well?"

Leif frowned, but nodded. "It would be better to steer clear… in case any of them decide to try to take revenge…"

At that, Mord turned, grabbing Thorfinn by the shoulders and led him away, an angry Gudrid steaming and shouting behind them. Leif watched the boy, his head down with the matted leaves still stuck in his hair. He looked just about as pitiable as Leif had seen him… 

_ I just… have to get him home… Once he's with his family…  _

In the end, Leif gave the village what they’d brought to trade… as a semblance of payment for the losses. It wasn't nearly enough, it seemed… Askeladd's band had been ruthless, and Thorfinn had killed indiscriminately… Leif's heart ached at it all, even as he pleaded for forgiveness on the boy's behalf. It truly was his luck that let them leave on thin-ice peace, and not with the crowd demanding Thorfinn's head on a pike in the end…

Having lost more than gained, Leif headed back to the ship, feeling the wretchedness of it all in his soul.  _ If only I'd found him sooner… if only I'd kept a better hold on him after Thors' death…  _ He couldn't have committed so much destruction as he had, living his life surrounded by the demons of man.

"Pops, we heading out?" Mord asked.

Leif nodded as he pulled himself onto the ship, the rest of the crew who'd stayed with him closely following. "Let's set a course for Crewland."

"Crewland? That's a three-days sail, Pops!"

"It would be best if we travel faster than word," Leif replied, untying the ship from the docks. "Considering the circumstances."

Mord frowned, and he could read the man easily. All the concerns and apprehensions he was feeling revolved around Thorfinn, his presence here, what they'd lost because of it… Leif understood. He also understood that Mord was trying to be compassionate; none on board were blind to the misery Thorfinn was going through. So he wouldn't say anything. He wouldn't argue with what Leif decided, and for that he was grateful. Leif placed a hand on his son's shoulder, letting him feel understood.

Leif turned his attention to the boy in question. Over the past month, he'd been showing improvement, even just a little. Now he barely responded to Gudrid was she speaking kindly to him, picking bits of cabbage from his hair. As he walked over, he sat beside the two of them. Thorfinn didn't look up, even as Gudrid cleaned away the last of it.

"What happened?" Gudrid asked warily.

"It would seem that the band led by Askeladd had attacked this village about a year ago… they're still recuperating from the devastating loss," Leif replied, watching Thorfinn's nonreaction.

"B- but, I mean, they shouldn't have-!" Gudrid started, but Leif shook his head.

"They were justified in their anger, Gudrid," he said calmly. "But thankfully I was able to persuade them not to demand blood for blood."

At that, Thorfinn's eyes looked up, looking tiredly at Leif. "How?"

"The supplies. I gave them my supplies I was to trade with," Leif replied, and Thorfinn's eyes dropped, that deep emptiness combined with a touch of guilt. Leif hoped it was guilt for the killings, and not just for the loss. 

When the boy said nothing further, Leif sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. Thorfinn didn't raise his eyes, didn't speak.

"Once the winter is over, we'll leave England. You won't have to return here again," Leif said softly. "You'll be home, and you can leave all of this behind you."

He said nothing, but at Leif's words he turned his head away from Leif and towards the sea.  _ All closed-off again… damn.  _ If words weren't going to do it, then he would try something else. Leif frowned, pulling the boy into an embrace. Neither said a word, and Thorfinn didn't return the hug… but Leif would have him feel it, whether he wanted to or not. 

_ You are not alone, boy. In the midst of your consequences, you won't be alone.  _

Thorfinn didn’t move, and Leif pulled away. With a sigh, he stood and made his way back to his duties. 


	7. Frustrations (Part 1/5)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorfinn and Gudrid go hunting together, ending in disaster.

Days of sailing passed since the previous town… days of sitting in the breeze, letting it wash over him as it always had. Sea spray hitting his face in silence. He breathed it in, trying to feel the sun. 

_ I didn’t even remember the place…  _ Thorfinn thought tiredly.  _ I didn’t recall the terrain at all…  _

But they had pillaged and burned across much of England in the decade he’d been with Askeladd. How could he be expected to remember every single town? 

That woman’s voice echoed in his mind, again and again.  _ Murderer… murderer…  _

It was objectively true, he was a murderer. He'd killed many people since he'd begun his hunt for Askeladd. He wasn't even sure if he could think of a number… He'd never really given it a label as such, though.  _ Murderer…  _ The deranged, terrified anger in her eyes bore into him, remaining fixed in his mind. The rotten food she'd thrown at him felt like nothing compared to that look she'd given him.

He swallowed, looking out to the sea, feeling a chill run down his spine. After everything that had happened… he needed to clear his head... be alone… which was more difficult now on Leif's little cargo ship than it had on all three of Askeladd's warships full of boisterous vikings. Between concerned old sailors, and a young girl who just couldn't leave him be, alone time seemed scarce. He made his way to the dock when Leif called out to him.

"Thorfinn, it'd be best to stay on the ship for the time being," he said, a gentle pity in his voice. Thorfinn scowled, turning a side-glance to the man. 

"I'm going to the woods," he said, his voice holding little of the bark it had before. "Fresh meat would be a good change."

Leif hesitated, but Thorfinn could already see he would oblige. Before waiting for a response, he stepped off the boat and onto the dock. Then a completely expected voice interjected excitedly from behind him.

“You’re going hunting!?” Gudrid asked excitedly, leaning over the side of the boat. 

Thorfinn just grunted in reply, used to her now enough to not be surprised by her being over the top. 

“Take me with you, I wanna learn,” she exclaimed, ignoring his ignoring of her. 

He gave her an incredulous scowl in return. At that she huffed, disregarding it… as she did with any of his passive attempts to dissuade her of anything.

"Come on, Thorfinn!" She whined. "When spring comes, I'll be dropped back in Greenland forever! Who knows when I'll get to see anything else ever again! I gotta learn while I can!"

He rolled his eyes. "If you're just going back, what does it matter?"

She just folded her arms, pouting. "Well, you  _ totally  _ missed the point of all of that."

He simply shrugged and tried to walk away… but he didn't get far before she pulled on his cloak. "Please, Thorfinn? I promise I won't get in the way, or cause any trouble! I just wanna learn more. Please?"

He blinked, staring as she sparkled her eyes at him, and for a moment he wondered if she'd really made them grow bigger for an instant.  _ Strange… she's strange… the hell is wrong with her…?  _

"You might as well take her," Leif called with a chuckle, more relaxed than he had been moments ago. "Believe me, she's a persistent little bugger."

"Hey!"

"Just be back before dark," Leif said, ignoring her interjection.

He looked back to her, her sparkling eyes now turned into a pout in Leif's direction, but her hands were still grasped onto his cloak.

"Fine," he said curtly, and she whooped happily… which he growled at with a glare. 

“First rule is silence, so be quiet,” he muttered, turning away from her as he made his way down the dock towards the spacious woods.

“Right, right. Be quiet. Yup. Don’t wanna scare the animals away. Hey, what do you think we’ll find, huh? I wonder what kind of stuff lives in a forest like that! Man, still can’t over those trees-“

“Gudrid,” he barked tiredly, turning the dirtiest look he could at her. 

“Oh right,” she clapped her hands over her mouth, muffling her voice. “Quiet.”

He rolled his eyes and strode forward.  _ I’m gonna regret this, huh?  _

* * *

Gudrid followed behind Thorfinn as they walked through the wooded brush. It was still sparse, but she could see the buds of green in the bushes, despite the patches of snow still on the ground. A testament to how different spring was in England versus Greenland. It really was amazing, leaving her in awe every time she saw something new. It was half the reason she wanted to come with Thorfinn on this little excursion.

The other half was primarily Thorfinn himself. 

Of all the new things she'd come across, the boy himself was probably the most fascinating out of everything. She couldn’t quite seem to get him. He was… not nice, she supposed, as he was pretty rough and gruff and kind of rude at times. But under all that… there was something else to him. Something smaller and… maybe softer? Most definitely sadder. He was one of the saddest people she'd ever come across. She really did want to help him, but she wasn't sure how all the time. So just being his friend felt like the best approach. 

_ That last time did mess that up a bit…  _ she frowned as she kicked a pinecone, walking in silence behind him. She watched his back, how he moved through the brush with ease. Slowly, her eyes dropped to the sheath on his belt, the blade held there firmly. She swallowed, recalling the town again…

_ They said he was a murderer… a pillager…  _ Gudrid wasn't blind to the visible damages there, the burns, the ruined houses, how few people there were… Thorfinn really had been there, and he really had participated in those atrocities. He probably killed with that very knife he carried on his belt…

She felt a shudder run through her, unsure of what she should think or feel. On one hand, she should be afraid of him, or at the very least wary. But she wasn't. All she saw was a young boy in desperate need of any of human kindness- whether he actively wanted it or not. Sure, maybe she was being a little pushy at times, like demanding to come on this hunt with him.  _ He probably wanted to think and be alone for a bit…  _ Before the embarrassment set in, she shook her head.  _ He was alone for years! No more!  _ She huffed, stomping on with determination. 

"Walk lighter," he murmured, it being the first bit of speech he'd given her since they'd left the dock.

She blinked, then softened her steps as much as she was able while still keeping up with his brisk pace. "Like this?"

He glanced back at her, looking down at her feet. Then shrugged and turned back to the trail ahead of them. Gudrid frowned in annoyance, figuring that was his way of saying yes.  _ Geez, what a jerk…  _

They spent hours like that, Gudrid barely resisting the urge to speak, and when she could bear it no longer, Thorfinn reprimanded her with the threat of sending her back to the boat alone. He didn’t even teach her anything, as he just did his own thing without waiting for her, or stopping to even show her what he was trying to do. Overall, it was a pretty crummy outing… 

“You gonna  _ actually  _ catch something today, Mr. pro-hunter?” She said dryly as he crouched in the dirt near the bank of a river, looking at  _ something  _ intently. 

He ignored her, keeping his eyes down. 

Gudrid pursed her lips, patience just about spent. “What, are you deaf too? Or you thinking if you ignore me long enough I’ll go away?”

At that, he turned to her, his eyes hard and she had to blink a bit. Usually he just looked tired, whatever rage he’d had as a warrior seemingly drained away. But he looked angry now. 

“What do you want, huh?” He stood, walking up to her with that anger she had yet to see from him before. “Seriously, what do you want from me? Because you’ve been glued to my side since I met you. You seriously want  _ me _ to be your  _ friend?” _

He was standing directly in front of her now, leaning in alarmingly close. Underneath the startlement of his change in mood, she had to take notice of his face leaning into hers, even if he was snarling at her like a wild animal. 

“Haven’t I said that already?” Gudrid shot back, not backing up and not retreating. “But if you seriously wanted nothing to do with me, then why did you even talk to me at all? You could’ve stayed basically comatose on the ship, but you didn’t.”

His snarl deepened, his face more sour than she’d ever seen on a person. It was actually objectively impressive… had it not been directed at her. 

She softened a tad, taking him in. He was all rough edges and thorns, thinking that would keep people out and away. But the chinks in his armor were so wide, she could easily stick her whole head in. “Is it so bad… to let someone in?”

His eyes widened a bit, jarring him out of the frustration. Then he let a tired glower take its place before turning from her and walking away. 

“You’re the one who demanded to come with me today,” he huffed, ignoring her last statement, probably so he wouldn’t have to acknowledge it. “Get over yourself.”

Gudrid huffed, folding her arms. 

He crouched in the soft mud, scoping out the animal tracks. In fact, the mud was really soft. As he stepped, she could see the very surface shifting… but it wasn’t all that wet. It looked like it should be solid on the top. It kept shifting every time he moved. She didn’t know why, but she had the strong impression that he shouldn’t stand on top of it. 

“Uh, Thorfinn?”

“Even after all that, you still can’t be quiet?” He muttered, annoyance rolling off of him in waves. 

“No, I mean- that mud…”

He looked up, a brow raised. “What?”

“T- the mud, it’s weird, isn’t it?” She said, pointing at the ground where he was standing. He looked down, lifting his feet to see what she was talking about. 

Before he could discern anything further, the ground shifted with his movement, far more visibly than before. She blinked, watching seams burst in the ground itself, cracks giving way under Thorfinn’s very boots.

“Thorfinn!” Gudrid cried just as the ground caved in underneath him.


	8. Can You Trust Me? (Part 2/5)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trapped, Thorfinn and Gudrid must trust each other to survive.

The ground fell away from Thorfinn’s feet as if it were made of nothing. He barely had time to react or move, but that had hardly stopped him in the past. His reactions were faster than anyone he could think of, aside from Askeladd. He spared a second of relief at the fact that Gudrid was far enough away from the area that she wouldn’t fall in too, so he wouldn’t have to dig her out.  _ What a pain it is… worrying about someone else... _

Thorfinn braced his knees, coiling to spring himself out of the pit… but his leg wouldn’t budge. Where he had sunk before, his foot was trapped under a buried tree root, pinning him in such a way that he couldn’t easily escape from. He’d need to cut it, but he was already airborne…

“Dammit!” He yelled, covering his head as debris from fell above him. Dirt, sticks, and water all covered him in the sinkhole. He couldn’t breathe as he was submerged, and his foot was even further jammed in the muck. The water was cold, freezing his brain and making it hard to think or move.  _ Why water?! We weren’t  _ that  _ close to the river! _ There was no time. He yanked the knife from its sheath, setting to work to free himself. There was so much stuff in the water, and it was murky from all the dirt and mud. He couldn’t see a thing, but he tried to feel over his leg, feel what was pinning him, because it was definitely more than just a root now. He dug with the blade, pulling and pulling at his leg. It ached, throbbing like he’d sprained it.  _ Great…  _

It was taking too long as the seconds turned into minutes, and he couldn’t get it free. He clenched his teeth, feeling his lungs begin to burn with the lack of air. He yanked again, pain shooting up his leg, but it wouldn’t budge. He yanked again and again, feeling his consciousness begin to fade.  _ Dammit! Dammit! Gotta get free! Gotta breathe! Gotta… live…. _

His movements were slowing, the air he had escaping his mouth in a cloud of bubbles.  _ But… would it be so bad… to die…? What could I gain… by living…? _

Before the edges of darkness in his vision buried him completely, he felt someone beside him, hands on him. He couldn’t think anymore. When the hand reached for his knife, he relented easily.  _ Does it even hurt anymore? _ The world was fading to black. 

Just as he could no longer comprehend what was happening around him, his head broke the surface of the water. He gasped, coughing out the water, trying to breathe as much air as he could. 

“What the…” 

Gudrid was right there, holding him afloat, gasping herself as her dark hair clung to her face. “Y- you okay?”

He gaped at her, still working on catching his breath. He looked up, seeing the depth of the sinkhole, the sheer and muddy sides of it. It was at least the height of Thorkell… not accounting for the height from the water’s surface to the ground below. It was deeper than his own height, as he couldn’t touch the bottom with his toes. 

And now Gudrid was here inside of it with him. Yet… she wouldn’t have fallen in with him, she’d been standing too far away.

“You- you jumped in here?”

Gudrid nodded, treading water as she still held on to him, although he was fine supporting himself now that he’d gotten his bearings. “Of course. You didn’t come up and I thought you were gonna drown.”

He gaped at her again. They couldn’t get out now, so what did it matter if he’d drowned? Now she was just gonna die right along with him. What was the point if she just got herself killed right too?

“Why would you do that?”

Gudrid blinked, looking confused and upset. “Uh, I don’t want you to die?! You’re my friend, whether you like it or not!”

He stared at her for a moment, unsure of what to even say to that now, instead he decided to ignore it completely. He let out a breath, taking the knife back from her hand and sheathing it. Then he pulled himself away from her to examine the unclimbable walls. “Idiot. Now we’re both trapped in here. Did you think of that?”

Gudrid bristled, frowning at him. “Hey! I saved your life!”

“What good does that do when we’ll both die later?”

“But we can just try to climb out.”

“That won’t work,” he said. “We’ll either drown or freeze to death before we climb that mud.” Without waiting for a response, Thorfinn took a breath and dove down. The murk was only just beginning to settle, so he still couldn’t see well, but he could feel. The bottom was a bit further down than his own height, definitely not something they could brace against to leap… there was just too much water. 

_ But where did all the water come from?  _ Maybe they were closer to the river than he’d realized. Before pushing off to the surface once more, he felt movement in the water, a current moving steadily through. Before searching for the source, he swam back to the surface, wincing at his sprained ankle.

“What the heck! Don’t just disappear!” Gudrid squawked. He ignored her. 

“There’s some current in here, which means this must’ve been some kind of underground river,” he said, looking around the pit. “Maybe that’s why it collapsed.”

“The snow’s been melting too,” Gudrid added. Then her face brightened, even as her teeth chattered. “Hey, what if we can get out that way!”

“It’s an underground river…” Thorfinn said tiredly, feeling his own body shivering with the cold and the wet. His limbs felt heavy. “There’s no guarantee there’s a place we could surface. It could go on for leagues.”

Gudrid grimaced, looking around frantically. “Ahhh! But we can’t just die in here! There’s gotta be a way out!”

Thorfinn watched her for a moment, a touch of fear welling up in him, which was strange. Since everything happened in York… he’d felt nothing but a desire for everything around him to cease. He just didn’t know what to do, or how to comprehend what his life was supposed to be now… He just wanted it all to stop, or for himself to just stop existing. He wasn’t sure if that meant he wanted to die or not, but whatever happened to him, he didn’t care. If he were to die here, he was sure he wouldn’t really fight it.

However, that was only for himself. Gudrid was here too… and she was here because she’d been trying to  _ save  _ his life. It would be his fault if she died here in this pit. It made his stomach twist and his throat tighten.  _ I probably deserve to die… but Gudrid doesn’t.  _ Leif never should have brought her out into this dangerous world…

As he thought, she’d taken it upon herself to start searching below the surface. When it was long enough he thought he should dive to find her, she appeared once more, drawing in a large breath before she looked at him with bright eyes.

“I found the underground river!” She exclaimed, swimming over to him. “Crap, it’s cold!”

She was shivering a lot, just as much as he was. Being in the water like this wouldn’t be too much of a problem in the summer, but it was not yet spring. It wouldn’t be long before both of them were hypothermic. When she swam to him, he caught her, holding her up a bit in the water, as she was beginning to lose stamina from treading water for so long. He was feeling pretty tired as well, but he cared more about getting her out of this than himself, even if she was beyond annoying. 

“T- thanks,” she swallowed, clinging to him before pointing up at the far edge. “The river up there is flowing west, and so is the underground river. The current of both flows in the same direction! Maybe it  _ does _ meet up and we can come out through the river.”

It seemed like a too good to be true kind of hope. If there wasn’t a way through, they would be dead. If it was too narrow and they had to dig… then soft earth could collapse further, and they would be dead. If they stayed put and waited for someone to find them, with the cold water and exposure combined… they would be dead. The best way to avoid death was to climb… but it was impossible. The branches were too high… it was too tall for him to be able to throw Gudrid up, and there would be no purchase to climb a slick, mud wall. They were trapped entirely. All there was left to do was choose their method of death. 

He felt bad that she would go with him… It churned his guts and made his chest hurt, but there wasn’t anything to do about it. It didn’t matter that she was just a stupid kid… everyone dies in this world. 

“I doubt we’ll make it through to the river,” Thorfinn said tiredly, still holding her arms. “But it would be a quicker death to drown than to freeze.”

Gudrid gaped at him, incredulous horror on her face. “Y- you really wanna die, don’t you?”

Thorfinn blinked at her, her reaction confusing. She really had a way of leaving him at a loss for words. 

Her face fell into a snarl as her fists gripped hard to the front of his tunic. For half a moment he thought she was going to start shaking him. “I’m not gonna let you die here, you hear me?!” 

“I-“ he muttered, grasping her wrists to pry her off. “I don’t really give a shit about what happens to me.”

She only fumed more as her hands clamped tighter, her hands trembling with cold against him. Indignant anger was in her as she leaned even closer to his face than she already was. “How can you be so awful?!”

Thorfinn just felt tired. If she was gonna be so loud, he didn’t want it to be right in his face. She still wouldn’t let go of his tunic.

“I  _ don’t care _ what happens to me-“ he continued, ignoring her outburst. “But I don’t want you to die here.”

She blinked. “Wh- what?”

In her confusion, she slackened her grip and he pulled her hands away, keeping a firm grasp on her wrists. “Our best chance at survival is probably your plan. You go through first with me behind you. Hopefully it pours out into the river.”

“W- wait, you’re actually listening to me?”

Thorfinn raised an eyebrow, annoyance on his face. “Obviously. Let’s go.”

“O- okay!”

Before submerging, they both took a deep breath. Gudrid led him to the opening and he followed her through without hesitation- there was no time for hesitation. Hesitating meant wasting the little air they were able to hold in their lungs. The way was completely dark, pitch black buried underneath the earth. It was narrow and wild, winding around, and with each curve he felt, he was almost certain they'd hit a dead end and could go no further. After minutes passed, his lungs were burning, and he could feel Gudrid slowing, but he pushed her onward.  _ If we hit a dead end, it's too late to go back now…  _ He gritted his teeth, keeping his mouth clamped shut, determined to get this girl out of this, regardless of himself. She didn't deserve such a fate. She deserved to go home.

He could tell she'd passed out when she fell back against him as he swam. He latched onto her, continuing forward.  _ Dammit! Dammit!  _

It wasn't until he felt himself begin to lose consciousness that he saw it, a faint light through the water. He strained, keeping himself going, swimming with all his might while dragging Gudrid with him through the narrow space.  _ We can make it! We can make it! _ The light grew as he got closer and closer, his lungs aflame, despite the freezing. 

At last, he surfaced, gasping in a breath and he yanked Gudrid up out of the water with him. When he looked around, he could see that she'd been right… it was feeding into the river above ground. She really had saved them…

Thorfinn pulled her up, trying to get a look at her face. "Gudrid, hey Gudrid!" he rasped, still gasping. She didn't respond.  _ Shit…  _ His muscles felt weak, but he swam through the current regardless, ignoring his straining lungs and sprained ankle. He gasped as he pulled himself and Gudrid from the cold water. She wasn't moving, just hanging as dead weight in his arms. He collapsed in the snow, Gudrid sprawled next to him. 

"Gudrid…" He gasped, shivering violently as he continued to catch his breath. He wiped his dripping hair from his eyes. Turning, he pulled her up to see her face. "Gudrid!"

Her eyes were closed and her mouth ajar. He felt his chest tighten as fear gripped him.  _ Shit… is she breathing? Is she alive?  _ He bit his lip, leaning down to press an ear to her chest. Her heart was beating, but it sounded slower and softer than his own usually did.  _ That's not good, right?  _ He moved to put an ear next to her mouth, listening for a breath. None came.

"Damn it!" He ground out, panic rising in him.  _ She's dying… She's dying!  _ But of course she was! It took too long! The way was so long, he’d been starting to lose his breath as well.

He racked his brain, trying to think of some way to save her. Anything! When it came to killing, he knew how to move, what to hit, where someone would bleed out the quickest. Armor and chainmail meant nothing to the small and quick. But saving someone's life? He didn't know.  _ Think!  _

"Hey, hey!" He called to her, grabbing her face. She was pale, her face felt like ice in his grasp. "Gudrid! Gudrid!"

_ What do I do? What the hell do I do?! _

For a moment, his mind flashed back years ago, back to a house in Iceland. Back to his father, pushing against that runaway slave's chest… bringing him back from the dead.

He didn't know what he was doing, he didn't even know if it would work. All he knew was that he needed to try. Her heart was already fading and she wasn't breathing. If he did nothing, she would die. He laid her down in the snow and dead grass and pressed his hands against her chest, locking his elbows and shoving down against her, wincing at the sound of cracking; but he continued going, believing in his father. He tried to mimic that memory, how his father had sat, where he was pushing, how frequent. All of it. If Thors could bring a half-frozen slave back from death, Thorfinn could save this dying girl. 

_ I don't want her to die… I don't want her to die!  _

Minutes passed, but he continued. He pushed and pushed against her, willing her heart to beat and her breath to come. Sweat dripped from his forehead, feeling warmer now despite being drenched and half frozen. He kept on. He didn't have time to think, he just kept going. 

_ But she's not breathing either!  _ He didn't know what to do. She needed to breathe, right? Maybe if he could give her air, it could help her breathe on her own? He had no clue, but he had to try. Even if it didn't work, he had to try.

He stopped pumping the compressions against her chest and grasped her face again. 

"Breathe, moron," he murmured, taking a deep breath and covering her lips with his, blowing his own air into her mouth… but he felt it come right out of her nose.

"Dammit," he hissed against her, plugging her nose and trying again. This time, he could see her chest rise.  _ That's… something…  _ He repeated that motion a couple times before going back to those compressions he'd started with. 

It was taking too long… it was taking so long, but he couldn't stop. Stopping meant giving up, and giving up meant Gudrid was dead. She was weird, and stupid, and annoying, and way too nosy, but at the same time… she was one of the first people in his life who actively wanted to be a friend to him. She was kind too. She was compassionate when she never had to be. She stirred something unfamiliar within him, despite that all-encompassing emptiness he felt. She was overwhelming and indescribable. She didn't deserve to die like this. Not because of someone like him.

_ You can't die… You just can't! _

He plugged her nose once more, blowing breath into her lungs, pleading in his mind for her to wake up. Just to open her eyes… for her to smile and annoy him again. 

After an agonizingly long time, finally she moved. He stopped, watching wide-eyed as she began to cough, water spilling out of her mouth. He gaped at her until he realized she was choking again. Gulping, he pulled her onto her side, helping her cough up the water. Her hands shook as she gripped his sleeve, coughing violently.

"Y- you okay?" He asked, pulling his hands away as she sat up.

"Ow," she muttered, her hand grasping at her chest. "O- ow, w- what happened?"

"You passed out," he replied, still breathing heavily from the exertion and the immense relief at her waking. “You were drowning.”

“But…” she winced. “Why’s it hurt  _ here?”  _

He recalled the cracks that occured when he'd first begun the compressions.  _ Broken ribs from it… damn.  _ He flushed, shame welling up in him. "I think I broke your ribs…"

Gudrid gawked at him. "Huh?! Why?!"

"M- my father showed me how to bring someone back from the dead when I was young," Thorfinn said hastily, stretching his arms out to show her. "Like this, hard against someone's chest to make their heart beat again, for however long it takes."

Her eyes were still wide, her hand pressed to her chest. "I- I was… dead?"

He felt that sinking inside him again, grateful now that she was awake and speaking, not lying on the ground with her heart slowing and her breath stopped. "Nearly…"

"So you… saved my life," she said quietly. 

Thorfinn looked away, feeling his chest tighten. "Yes… but only after you saved us both with your idea about the river."

She winced as she moved closer to him. He was about to stop her when she grasped his arms and leaned her head against his collar. He blinked, looking down at her with surprise. But he should be used to that by now… she was always surprising him, it seemed. 

"Thank you… t- thank you," she muttered, and he could hear her sniffling from tears. 

There were a lot of things running through his head, but he wasn't sure how to piece them into cohesion. This girl was insufferable and strange, but she'd saved his life, and now she was thanking him and  _ hugging  _ him… The desperation he'd felt as he'd tried to revive her came to mind as well. When was the last time he'd felt so desperate to save someone? Images of Askeladd bleeding out on the ground came to mind… of that English woman disappearing from his sight in a crowd of bloodthirsty vikings… of his father with arrows protruding from his body, still standing proudly on his feet.

Yet, he'd been successful in saving Gudrid's life. 

Thorfinn let out a breath, grasping her wrists to pull her back from him. "W- we need to get moving. We'll freeze to death out here…"

Gudrid nodded, hissing as she moved away from him. "Yeah…"

Thorfinn stood, leaning heavily on his left leg as he reached down to help her stand. She took his hand, her other arm still braced against her chest. She stopped, looking at his feet before looking up at his face. “You’re hurt?”

He glanced down. “It’s fine, just a sprain.”

Gudrid’s hand clenched around his, but she still let him help her stand. When she did, she didn’t move away, nor let go of his hand. Instead she lifted his arm, pulling it around her shoulders. Thorfinn tried to pull away but she gripped tight to him. 

“I don’t need help. You’ll hurt your ribs worse.”

“It’s fine,” she replied, even as she winced. “Besides, it’ll be warmer like this, right?”

He grimaced, looking away from her. Huddling for warmth wasn’t going to work if they were still wearing their soaked clothes… 

“W- we wandered off pretty far…” Gudrid muttered, her teeth chattering. 

“It’ll take us a while to get back to the ship,” Thorfinn frowned, looking down at Gudrid. Her lips were just about blue. He was sure she was used to the cold, being from Greenland, but anyone could die from freezing. He started walking, bringing her with him. “We should make a fire and head back when we’re warmed up.”

“But… it’ll be dark soon. W- won’t Leif worry?”

Thorfinn shrugged, looking for any wood dry enough to burn. He was sure the old man would, Leif had searched for him for all these years… It was different for Thorfinn, having someone care if he came back. If it wasn’t so odd to him, he might’ve been more grateful to Leif. He  _ should  _ be more grateful… but half the time he had no idea what he was feeling. 

“He’ll understand when we can get back. We won’t make it trudging through the snow once the sun goes down.”

“I guess that’s true…” Gudrid said in a small voice. “But we don’t have any spare clothes out here.”

“We’ll dry by the fire,” he said, limping across the grass and patches of snow. 

“But…” 

“What?” He looked at her face to see her cheeks were red, a perturbed look on her face.  _ Oh… _

She said nothing, and now he just felt uncomfortable. He felt his own face warm now, casting his eyes anywhere but at her.  _ Ugh…  _ “Let’s just make a fire…”


	9. Something Different (Part 3/5)

The night was quiet as the fire crackled. Both of their outer clothing were hung over a fallen log as they sat close to each other in their damp shirts, but being so close to a fire was helping them to dry just fine. It was better than any awkwardness of dressing down further…

“Now that we’re warm, I’m just feeling sleepy,” Gudrid said as she hugged her knees to her chest under her clothes. 

“That’s normal,” Thorfinn replied. “Freezing is a shock to the body. It’s working hard to balance itself out again. So you need sleep.”

“How do you know so much doctor stuff?” She asked sleepily. 

He frowned, thinking back. Nobody had taught him anything, other than watching others treat wounds and illnesses from afar. He just figured it out as he went, living in as much solitude as he could muster while traveling with that wretched gang. 

“The only one who has ever looked out for me is myself… and I had to figure it out as issues arose,” he simply muttered. 

He felt the girl lean closer to him, her hands wrapping around his arm as she laid her head on his shoulder. His face felt a bit warmer as he sat uncomfortable in the situation. But she was warm, and she needed warmth as well, so he didn’t move away as he normally would. 

“Well, you don’t have to be the only one looking out for yourself anymore,” she said softly, hugging his arm. “I’m your friend, whether you like it or not. And Leif loves you like you were family. You can’t be alone anymore.”

His eyes widened at her words, her sincerity always seeming to throw him for a loop. He glanced down at her as she leaned against him. Her dark hair was dry now and pulled out of her braid. It splayed down her back and over his shoulder too, shining in the firelight. He realized he was distracting himself from her words though, taking in her appearance. 

Thinking of what Leif had done for him, now and for all those years was confusing to him. Amidst the empty nothing he felt, those facts alone brought up feelings of guilt and shame within him. How he’d spent all those years thinking of Askeladd, of his father, of vengeance. He’d forgotten that there were people still living who cared about him… who’d probably mourned him when he snuck away… A reason he’d been so angry when Leif had brought up his mother and sister was because he couldn’t manage the guilt of abandoning them- especially when in his dreams, Thors himself was telling him to go home. 

_ I didn’t have to live like I did…  _

He didn’t know what to do with that thought…

Gudrid was confusing too. Unlike the rest, she’d never known him except as he was now. An empty warrior who barely spoke to her. And yet, she’d taken upon herself the need to be his friend, for no reason other than that he was there. 

She was so different from himself, yet she’d run away too. 

“Why did you run away?” He asked, his voice quiet as the sound mixed with the crackling of the fire. 

Gudrid didn’t move from her place against him, and for a moment he almost thought she was asleep. 

“A call to adventure,” she murmured, her voice so much calmer than she usually was. “A need to not be trapped anymore.”

“Trapped…”

She nodded, hugging him tighter. “Yeah, trapped. Trapped from wanting to see the vast world I only knew from stories. Trapped in a duty I never asked for. I felt like a bird that got stuffed in a cage, then told to be happy there.”

After a few beats, she sighed and spoke again. “It happened almost overnight. Like, one minute everyone’s telling me 'you’re just a kid, you don’t understand anything.' And I’m just ‘that’s fine, whatever.’ Then the next, they’re all saying I’m a grown woman and it’s time to settle down. I mean, what? I haven’t even done anything worth settling down from. But it’s my duty…  _ because _ I’m a woman.”

Her words resonated with him, making him ponder his own place in life. Her life and duties were different than his own, of course, but being trapped in a certain state was a feeling he was accustomed to. 

_ A duty of vengeance…  _ but that was something he had chosen, whether it felt like a choice or not. 

“You’re not trapped anymore though.”

Gudrid buried her face against him with a long sigh. “Leif’s taking me back to Greenland when we go to take you home…”

Thorfinn was silent, pondering. 

“W- will you come visit me when I go back?”

“Yeah,” he said, not really thinking about it. 

She lifted her head, a bright smile on her face as she leaned into him. “Really?!”

He blinked, face warming involuntarily again. Although he had no plans of where his future would go, he knew for sure that he was unlikely to stay in a single place. There was no reason for him  _ not  _ to visit her. “Y- yeah, why not?”

She hugged him tighter, pulling him into her a bit more. He scratched at his neck, feeling awkward. Why did she make him feel awkward all the time? It really was a different feeling than he was used to… but what he was used to was rage or nothing, so without that, everything was a new, strange territory.

"Do you think we should try to make our way back to the boat, or sleep here tonight?" Gudrid asked, looking to him to decide... for some reason. "I mean, we didn't even catch any meat at all."

"We should stay by the fire," Thorfinn said, remembering the brutal reality of frostbite and the freezing sickness- men dying from that cold stuck within, without a single scratch on them… their limbs rotting away on their own. 

Gudrid pulled away from him and stood, tip toeing with her bare feet to the other side of the fire where their clothes were drying. "They're still pretty damp, but I'll turn them over."

He didn't respond, just watched as she did so. She seemed pretty sleepy now, rubbing her eyes and yawning, her head looking almost too heavy for her neck. For a brief moment, he thought she might fall over right then.

“We should sleep,” he said. “Regain our strength.”

She glanced at him, then looked away, hugging herself a bit.  _ Perhaps she’s in pain…  _ A pang struck against his chest, but he ignored it, not knowing what to do with such a feeling.  _ We can figure out the rest after we sleep…  _

Gudrid came back to his side of the fire, kneeling in the grass once again. 

“So um…” she started, blowing out a breath. “Are we…?”

He blinked at her, confusion in him. “What?”

She almost seemed to shrink away from him, which was startling. Really, half the time he didn’t even know how to respond to her.  _ She’s acting all awkward now?  _ They’d already decided to sleep close for warmth; why was she acting like this?

He sighed, reaching out to grab her elbow. Gudrid squawked, but didn’t try to stop him. 

“We don’t have supplies or shelter, and our clothes are wet. I know you don’t want to, but it’s gonna get cold. This is how we’ll survive,” he said briefly, emphasizing the necessity. It wasn’t for any other reason than survival… if  _ that’s  _ what she was worried about...

“I never said I didn’t-!” She cut herself off, looking away from him, biting her lip. 

He blinked again, “Huh?”

“N- nothing! It’s nothing! Anyway, fine. It’s fine. I don’t care. C’mon, let’s go to sleep!” She said, lying herself down on the ground, looking expectantly at him. 

Thorfinn stared at her waiting for him on the ground for a moment before lying down as well. His guts felt twisted up… maybe it was the lack of food. Before he could move, Gudrid was reaching out to him, wrapping her arms around his middle, pulling him close to her. He started, then allowed himself to relax a bit, snaking an arm under her head and the other about her shoulders- a hold which held her incredibly close to his face. He averted his gaze, avoiding making eye contact with her. She always saw so much more than he could understand. 

“Mmm, you were right,” Gudrid’s voice was muffled as she cuddled closer to him, pressing her face into his shoulder. “You’re so warm.”

He didn’t reply nor acknowledge her words, unsure of how he could. But she was warm as well, it being a great relief to the deep shivering he’d been suppressing. He stared straight ahead, even as her hair brushed against his face. She moved a bit, shifting as she tried to get comfortable, seemingly coming closer and closer into him with every move. 

“Ugh, you’ve slept out in the wilderness like this a lot, huh?” She asked, still moving a bit, her hands tight around his middle.

“Yes,” he said. “Although I wasn't very often damp… and I definitely didn’t have another person to glean heat from.”

“Oh,” she said, sounding a bit mournful. He wondered for a moment what she was thinking. Because it seemed like she, this naive and idiotic  _ child  _ understood and comprehended these things easier than he did… at least when it came to other people, or emotions. What was there to be mournful about? It was just life. 

“Hey… Thorfinn?” She asked quietly, bashful again. 

He raised a brow, letting a half-assed grunt be his response. 

“I just…” she muttered, her hands clenched in his shirt. “I wanted to say thanks… for listening to me earlier. For giving my idea a shot. Not a lot of guys would do that, ya know?”

_ She’s… thanking me?  _

“We had no other choice,” he replied, ready for her to stop talking and just go to sleep. 

“But still… thanks.”

He felt his face warm at her words, and his frown deepened. 

"Well goodnight, Thorfinn," she said quietly as she laid against him, her face nearly buried in his neck. 

"Goodnight," he replied, unsure of all of this. How had he even ended up in this situation…? The last time he could think of sleeping in the same bed as anyone was when he was a child and Ylva would sneak into his bed to steal his heat. (It was a game, mostly. From what he could remember about his sister, Ylva always did things her own way).

Gudrid was most assuredly  _ not  _ his sister… she was just this random girl who'd randomly popped into his life, and he had no clue how she'd become so prominent in it. Maybe it was because he had nothing to begin with, it made it easy for a larger than life person like her to fill that void. His arms were wrapped wholly around her as hers were around him, taking in her warmth and giving her his own. It was weird… more affectionate -bordering on intimate- than he was entirely willing to admit. It was too foreign, too abnormal… Although he couldn't say it was unpleasant… He was still shaken by that first embrace Leif had given him, the first affection anyone had given him in years and years… And now this girl was cuddling him, making him blush, falling asleep with her arms around him... lying as close as she could to him...

He huffed out a sigh, pushing all those thoughts aside.  _ We need sleep,  _ he thought sternly to himself as he let his eyes close, settling his face against her soft hair. 

With the weariness from the cold and the exertion, he fell asleep almost immediately, breathing in the warmth of another person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to say thank you for the influx of feedback for this, its been really helpful and kind. I'm so grateful.


	10. Roused (Part 4/5)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares are hard to handle, and even harder to explain...

Gudrid woke to the soft light of the rising sun. She blinked herself awake, feeling warm, but also constricted. In the drowsiness of morning, she'd forgotten for a moment the night before, and the sight of Thorfinn's sleeping face right in front of her was startling, but not unwelcome. His arms were wrapped completely around her, clinging to her. Her chest was hurting, aching where the bones were fractured, but it was okay. It wasn’t as bad as the time she'd broken her arm falling from an ice shelf. But she was too distracted by the boy sleeping next to her to really consider the pain. 

Her cheeks warmed as she smiled, quietly keeping as still as she could to not wake him, because it was nice that he was holding her so tight. She liked it more than she wanted to admit. With his hair swept to the side, she could actually see his eyes. His face was soft as he slept, peaceful and open in a way it never was when he was awake. She was close enough to see tiny scars on his skin, and how long his dark eyelashes were. He was still young with that round youth to his face, but she could see the sharp features beneath, slowly revealing themselves with age. For a moment, she considered what his smile would look like, realizing she'd never seen one on his face before. 

_ He may be kind of rough and ragged… but he's really cute too…  _

She stifled a giggle at the thought, blushing a bit brighter. Still, she didn't want him to stir. Once he woke, there would be no more cuddling, she was absolutely positive. Carefully, she leaned her head back to where it had been when she woke, wedged comfortably between his shoulder and his chest. She let out a breath, shutting her eyes once more, relishing his warmth as she remembered being so cold the day before.

It was only a few minutes more that she was able to steal before the boy stirred beside her. She sighed, about to lift her head to say 'good morning,' but a gasp from him stayed her tongue. Gudrid pulled away and watched as his face twisted from the somber peace it had held before. Now he was twitching, fists tightening and loosening where they laid against her back. He groaned, turning his face into the grass as if he were trying to hide from something. The groaning turned into mumbles, but if they were words she couldn't understand them… He sounded… afraid. Pleading? Sad… His face was twisted with hurt and fear, something she'd not seen on his face before. She had no idea what he was seeing, but his reaction to it was breaking her heart. 

Then he jolted, rolling onto his back, shouting in his sleep as his free arm reached over them towards the sky. His other arm twitched, but it was still pinned underneath her.

"Father- " He cried, his voice slurred and wretched. "Father!"

Casting aside her feelings of surprise and pity, she sat up, grasping his arms as he thrashed. "Thorfinn! Hey, Thorfinn! Wake up! Hey!"

It took a few moments, but soon his eyes opened, looking around him as he gathered his bearings again. His eyes were wide and wild, and he sat up so suddenly she nearly fell backwards. She would’ve had she not still been holding onto his arms. 

“H- hey, you okay?” She asked kindly, clinging to him tightly. “Were you dreaming?”

His eyes met hers, that wild panic calming into the emptiness his eyes often held. “A dream…”

She nodded. “You were calling for your father…”

He looked at her, surprise intermixing with his weariness, but it only lasted a moment before he dropped his head. Looking down, he grasped her wrists, pulling her hands off of him. “Ah…”

Without any further explanation, he backed away from her and stood. She watched him limp a bit as he grabbed his dried clothing. He pulled the tunic over his head before wrapping his belt about his waist, then sat on the log to tie on his boots. 

“Uh- I- Thorfinn…?”

He looked up, those dark eyes heavy and tired. She was more or less struck dumb at the sight. When she said nothing, he looked down again and continued his task. 

“I’ll be back, wait here,” he murmured low, but she could hear the shakiness in it. Without another word, he walked away from their little makeshift camp. Gudrid was left on the ground, wondering not for the first time what in the world was going through his head. 

“Huh…” she mumbled to herself, watching the place where he’d disappeared. 

_ Must’ve been a pretty bad dream…  _

Wincing, she clutched a hand to her chest as she stood up. Yes, they’d been able to sleep because of the warmth of each other, but she was pretty cold now. She thought of him so close to her, his arms around her… it was closer to a boy than she’d ever been, including in her own marriage. Her face was flushed and her heart fluttered. Alone now, she let out a small giggle, completely distracted by the thoughts. But it was still cold… and she was still worried about him.

_ Maybe I can get him to let me cuddle him when he comes back,  _ she thought.  _ Maybe that'll make him feel better!  _ Even as she thought it, she was confident that wasn’t gonna happen. Special circumstances and all... She sighed, laughing at herself for being so silly as she began to pull the rest of her clothes on once more. 

When the giddy silliness passed, Gudrid felt a bit more somber, thinking of his dream. As she tied her belt around her waist, she could hear the fear and desperation in his voice as he moaned and whimpered… crying out for his father. Then the deep sorrow and hollowness afterwards in his eyes. It was haunting.

_ His father died eleven years ago, is what Leif said…  _ Gudrid thought, tugging a boot on.  _ But he’s still so wrapped up in it... _

Of course, she could understand being heartbroken and upset, watching your father die. It would be devastating. She thought of her own father, and just the idea made her heart quake. But she would think the pain would subside with time, right? When her little brother had died because of sickness, it had hurt so badly. She ached for his far too short life, wishing he’d had more time. But… it didn’t hurt as much now as it did when it had happened those years ago. It’s not that she didn’t miss him, or mourn him. It’s just that… everyone dies someday. Not being able to accept that and move on…  _ maybe that’s why Thorfinn is the way that he is. He can't move on... _

But she wasn’t one to judge. Everyone processed things differently. She figured it would make a difference she couldn't comprehend, having a loved one be murdered, rather than dying of natural causes. And Thorfinn’s father was murdered right in front of him when he was only six years old…

Gudrid frowned deeper, tugging the other boot up her leg.  _ Poor guy… No wonder he’s so messed up... _

She sighed, remembering again what she’d decided when she’d first met him.  _ I’m gonna help him however I can.  _

With vigor, she revalidated that in her head, determined to do whatever it took. She wanted to see him smile someday, so she would do everything in her power to help him heal enough to be happy again.

A twig snapped behind her and she turned to greet him back. Yeah, maybe he was upset about his nightmare, and if he wanted her to let it be, she could do that! But that didn’t mean she couldn’t keep talking to him right? After all, everytime she got him to speak to her -in more than a few words- the conversation always seemed to be fascinating in one way or another. 

“Thorf-“

When she turned, the person standing behind the log was  _ not  _ the boy she’d been expecting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta finish this... midterms... ugh...


	11. Indescribable (Part 5/5)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorfinn must rush to Gudrid’s aid before it’s too late. _What does it mean to care about someone? ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh I should stop forgetting! I’ve done a lot of art for this story and posted it on Twitter. You can find it on my page @kate7h (two full-color ones for this chapter!)

Thorfinn splashed the water over his face, huffing out a sigh as he looked up at the sky. It was just barely losing its pink from the sunrise. 

“Damn it,” he muttered quietly, his mind blank of whatever that dream had been. He didn’t remember. Lately he never remembered.  _ Father had been there? _ According to Gudrid, he’d been calling out for Thors. He hadn’t known what to do with that information, but he knew either way he wanted to be able to breathe and think without that girl hovering over him and asking him so many questions all the time. 

He looked down to the water again, seeing the faint reflection of himself. Weary, tired, devoid of that familiar rage. Devoid of anything, really.  _ I wish I remembered the dream…  _ he couldn't help but think. Especially if his father had spoken to him in the dream.  _ I think it was important…  _

His eyes were blank, dull… and he thought back to what Thorkell had said about Thors’ eyes. How they glinted and shone with some kind of enlightenment he hadn’t understood. Thorfinn didn’t understand it either… and as angry as it had made him at the time, he knew Thorkell had been right. Even being the son of Thors, his own eyes lacked what Thors had had…

He gritted his teeth, regret filling him for reasons he couldn’t quite put into words. 

He shut his eyes from the reflection, thinking of nothing. 

A faint cry stopped his thoughts cold. Standing abruptly didn’t feel good on his ankle, but the air of foreboding felt thick. Like the feeling of calm just before a battle. It was quiet after the short cry. The birds chirped, and the river flowed over rocks and branches. He stood still, listening hard. He turned his head in the direction the cry had come…It was from where he’d left Gudrid alone. 

“Thorfinn!” He heard more clearly this time, the voice definitely that same girl, calling his name. 

“Shit!” He hissed, running with all his might back to her.  _ I’m such an idiot… I’m such an idiot! _ To leave her alone and unprotected like that… They were moored by a port town! Of course there’d be trouble! He growled, ignoring the pain and keeping on. Thorfinn pulled the knife from its sheath, glowering as he anticipated whatever it was that was threatening her. 

When he made it to the clearing, his eyes widened before his face fell back into a snarling glare. 

_ Of course it’d be some lowlife…  _

A man had a hold on her arm… the other raised as he tried to grab the stick Gudrid was wailing on him with. 

“Damn it, girl! Hold still!”

“No way, you creep!” She yelled, yanking it away from his grasp. “Get away from me!”

“Little bitch!” he snarled, releasing Gudrid's arm to strike her. She fell back, blood on her lip. The man pulled a short sword from its sheath. “I’ll make you pay!”

For the first time since Askeladd slipped through his fingers, Thorfinn felt rage blossoming in his chest once again. Thorfinn knew this side of the world well. He knew what this man’s intentions were. He was going to assault her… then he was going to kill her… His blood boiled as time seemed to slow. 

Gudrid was loud. She was obnoxious and always too close in his face. She didn’t know how to keep her nose in her own business. But she was honest, and sincere. And she knew who he was and what he’d done and she wasn’t afraid of him in the slightest. She saved his life. She’d slept beside him against the cold. She cared in ways she didn’t have to. She was a different kind of person than he’d ever met. 

For this whole voyage, he’d found himself mildly irritated at the girl, but at the same time, he was… fond of her, in a way. For this reason, as he watched the sword raise over her, he hated the idea of someone hurting her... of a world where she no longer existed. 

Before the man could get any closer to her, Thorfinn screamed, charging the man as he leapt over the fire. The man started, gaping as Thorfinn closed the distance quickly, knife raised. 

The man tried to swing at Thorfinn, but his skill was amateur at best. He dodged easily, raising the blade and plunging it into the man’s throat. He gagged, blood gurgling from his mouth, breathing his last as he began to bleed out. The man gaped at him with fear, his eyes wide and pleading as he tried to speak. But no words could pass through the amount of blood gushing from his wound. Thorfinn ground his teeth, that rage still boiling in him. He yanked his knife out, blood spraying as he let the bastard fall, dead in the snow. 

After he died, the morning was quiet again. Thorfinn huffed, feeling that tight and livid tension in his chest ease. Gudrid was safe now, and her assailant was dead. Once the rage faded, he stared at the ground, exhaustion filling him again. He sighed, wiping the blood on his sleeve. 

"We should get back," he said, turning back to the girl. "Or Leif is gonna-"

He cut himself off, blinking at Gudrid, who was still seated in the dirt. Her eyes were wide, gaping at him like he was the one who’d attacked her.  _ Fear… she's afraid.  _

"Look, it's fine now," he said, sheathing the knife once again. He kicked the guy who was probably already going cold after spilling all his blood in the snow. "He's dead, see? He's not coming after you."

Gudrid gaped at him further, trembling slightly. “You- you killed him…”

Thorfinn raised a brow, frowning at her. She pulled her leg in, scooting away from him.  _ She’s afraid of me…  _

“Of course I did,” he scowled, turning away from her, his stomach twisting for some reason. “He was gonna kill you.”

Gudrid didn’t move, continuing to stare with that fear in her eyes. He didn’t really know what to do or say now. The guy was trying to take her, probably rape her, then kill her. She wouldn’t have survived if he had done nothing.  _ What’s her problem? _

“You didn’t even… hesitate…”

_ The hell…?  _

He was about to shout at her when suddenly, he recognized what that look on her face reminded him of; that fear directed at him. Sure, plenty of people had been afraid of him, but usually those people were people he was setting out to kill- not save. But Gudrid… her expression looked exactly like that woman from years ago… the one who’d combed his hair. Her eyes wide and full of fear and sadness he couldn’t even begin to understand. His stomach sank as he looked down at her. 

_ I… don’t want her to be afraid of me... _

He gritted his teeth, glowering away from her and that look on her face. “He was going… to  _ kill  _ you.”

She was quiet, quieter than she'd ever been before, still seated on the ground. He could feel the sticky, matted feeling of blood on his face, sprayed on him from the kill. It felt heavier on his skin as she turned her eyes away from him. That fear was still there in her, but there was also anger. This wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting…

Before he could say anything further, she stood, her face still turned away from him. “Let’s go,” she muttered quietly, and began to walk back in the direction of the town. 

He bit his lip, looking down and seeing more blood on his hand. Mutely, he limped behind her, unsure of what he was supposed to be feeling. 

After a few minutes of silence, Gudrid stopped, her back still turned to him. “Thorfinn.”

He stopped too, watching her. 

She took a deep breath, her words coming out shakily. “Don’t ever kill for me again. Please…”

His eyes widened, staring incredulously at her turned back. He thought he could be irritated at her, call her stupid and naive, or ungrateful. None of that came out, nor was he feeling any of that. What he felt now was… embarrassment… shame. 

When he didn’t respond, she turned and there were tears streaming down her face, dripping from her chin as rapidly as rain. “Promise me.”

Thorfinn’s jaw was slackened as he failed to comprehend her feelings. But he couldn’t argue with her, even if he wanted to… and he didn’t want to. He just wanted her to be like her normal, weird and obnoxious self again. He wanted her to not cry. He wanted her to not look at him like that. 

“I- I won’t…” he said in return before even thinking about what he was saying. His throat felt dry. “I promise…”

Gudrid’s eyes closed as she let out a long breath, wiping at her face with her sleeve. Before he could think to respond, she walked towards him again, gingerly grasping his wrist and tugging him to follow. “We should get that blood cleaned off you... before we go back to the ship.”

He swallowed, then quietly let her pull him towards the river. 

Not looking at her, he knelt in the silt at the shore. The clear water was cold, but he didn’t hesitate to scoop it up and splash it over his face, combing it through his hair. She didn’t speak as he washed, just stood above him silently. As much as he’d longed for quiet with her before this whole ordeal, in this moment he was beginning to hate it. 

_ What do I do here, huh? _

With his face and hair dripping, he looked up, surprised to meet her gaze, as she seemed to be avoiding his before. 

“You missed some,” she said softly. 

He blinked, looking down. Before he could turn back to the water, she crouched down, kneeling in front of him. For a moment she just watched him, and he found he was caught in her gaze, confusion in him. She didn’t look afraid or angry anymore. She looked more… sad. He wasn’t sure what to do with that.  _...At least she's not crying anymore. _

“Here,” she muttered, finally taking her eyes away from him as she leaned to the water, dampening her sleeve. He probably didn’t need the help, but she helped regardless, and he didn’t try to stop her. They knelt in silence, her eyes focused as she pushed his wet hair back from his face, then scrubbed her sleeve gently against the side of his face, then down his neck, wiping the rest of the blood away. The silence between them was heavy, almost palpable. He pulled at a thread on his sleeve, looking down to avoid making eye contact with her, not while she was so close. 

“I-“ Gudrid started. “I do wanna say thank you… for saving my life.”

He brought his eyes up, blinking in confusion. “I thought you were mad about that.”

She frowned, dipping her sleeve in the water, dampening it once again. 

“I wasn’t mad at you…” she said as she dabbed at his neck again. “I was afraid of you…”

_ Yes, I could tell that…  _ Having that confirmed didn’t make it feel any better. But he’d never cared before if anyone was afraid of him or because of him. It felt different with Gudrid. It was strange. He didn’t like it. 

“You’ve… never been afraid of me before...” he muttered, looking away as her fingers touched his chin, turning his face to make sure she got everything. 

“You’ve never killed someone right in front of me before.”

She wasn’t wrong. He hadn’t killed since York, there was no reason to now. He’d killed and killed for Askeladd to get at a chance to duel. He’d been a warrior only as a means to that end. To be strong, unbeatable- a formidable foe that could topple even the strongest of warriors… to slit Askeladd’s throat once and for all. But it wasn’t enough… Now that that was over, he had no reason other than self-defense. And the defense of those he chose to protect. 

Thorfinn frowned heavier, scratching his neck.  _ Well, apparently not for Gudrid, though…  _

After another stretch of silence, Gudrid stood up, releasing a long breath. Thorfinn kept his eyes downward, watching the flow of the river, his face still dripping.

"Well, let's head back," she said, her voice a little closer to the lightheartedness it usually contained. He glanced up and saw a sad smile on her face, her hand reached out to him. 

"C'mon," she said, waiting. 

Thorfinn swallowed dryly before reaching up, taking her hand and letting her help him stand. Before letting go, she clung to him with a gentle squeeze. It was only a second, but it made his eyes widen, confusion upon confusion with her… She pulled his arm over her shoulders again, to ease the weight he put on his foot. He would've protested, saying he was fine… but he didn't want to cross her now, not when she was smiling again. She looped an arm around his back and they began moving.

As they stumbled back towards the port town, his mind played the events over again, trying and failing to make sense of it… trying and failing to make sense of  _ her.  _ How strange… how indescribable. Thorfinn pushed the drying hair back from his eyes again, glancing at her.

_ Why do you continue to be kind to me? What does that gain you? Why are you this way?  _ It made sense for Leif to be kind to him and all; he’d known him since he was a child. They were practically family. Gudrid didn't know him, never had until they'd met a month ago. He didn't speak any of his questions aloud, but they never left his mind. 

A part of him, deeper than his mind… found that he almost didn't want to know the answer… for fear that describing it would somehow make her stop.

As he thought of her gentle hands, cleaning his face with care… her fingers brushing against his skin with kindness, despite her being upset with him… He felt a warmth in his chest which was also indescribable. 

He touched his cheek where her fingers had been, walking silently beside her.


	12. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their adventure in the woods, Gudrid is left with some residual apprehension regarding the young viking boy she’d made her friend.

After nearly a day and a half of going missing, Gudrid had been right that Leif would be worried. When they walked up to the ship, Thorfinn limping and leaning on Gudrid as she supported him, Leif's eyes were as round as sand dollars, making his way down the dock to the both of them. Without hesitation, he wrapped them both up in his arms, embracing them with relief. Gudrid winced at the tension on her fractured ribs, but still hugged her brother-in-law. 

“You idiot kids! Where on earth have you been?!” Leif cried, squeezed a little tighter. 

“Sorry, Leif,” Gudrid said, patting his back. “We didn’t mean to take so long.”

“Sorry,” she heard Thorfinn mutter quietly, and she felt herself smile. She tightened her arms around both of them, hugging them. 

After they’d settled back onto the ship and explained what had happened this last day and night, Leif nodded, still looking worried, but calmer now. “I see. Thank the Lord you were able to make it back, you two. From now on, I don’t want either of you to leave my sight.”

Gudrid folded her arms, aggravation in her. “Hey, we couldn’t have known we’d fall into a sinkhole, Leif!”

“You jumped in,” Thorfinn muttered quietly, which didn’t help anything. 

“Regardless,” Leif said resolutely. “You’re both in my care now. You’re my responsibility to protect and bring back home to your families safe. So no arguing this time, either of you!”

Gudrid huffed, but Thorfinn was silent. 

* * *

After the whole ordeal of their attempted hunt, Gudrid noticed a change in Thorfinn’s behavior towards her. He was still quiet and surly, of course, still having that stoic attitude, but… even though the change was subtle in his face, it was there in his actions. He went out of his way to be around her. He brought up more conversations. He opened up to her about what he was thinking. He even poked fun at her. They had long conversations into the night now. It was nice. She felt a swelling of joy in her heart at it all, seeing him  _ trying,  _ and growing from it. 

Though that feeling of fear she'd felt when he'd killed that man remained… she tried to focus on the positive side of things.

“I don’t know what happened when you both were lost,” Leif said to her one day, in regards to the boy who was talking with Mord at the bow of the ship. “But I'm glad of it.”

“He’s figuring it out, I think,” Gudrid smiled at her brother-in-law. “I dunno what he was like when he was a kid, but I think maybe he’s trying to heal.”

Leif scratched his neck, his face turning a little bittersweet. “He was cheerful, and hyperactive. So much life and energy in him. You always reminded me of him when you were a kid, wanting to sail away on my ship and see the world. That was Thorfinn as well.”

She nodded, thinking on that. Thorfinn being energetic and cheerful wasn’t something she’d seen in him, and now she felt a bit jealous of Leif… for knowing him before all the horrible things happened to him. 

“I hope someday he can be cheerful again,” she said quietly, tying off her rope. “I wanna see him smile.”

Leif patted her back with a laugh. “At this rate, I’m sure you will soon. Be patient with him.”

“I am, I am,” she groaned. 

Patience was sometimes a problem she had with Thorfinn. More often than not, he was more patient with her, at least, at the beginning of this journey. Now they seemed to fall into place with each other in a way she hadn’t expected. 

One major difference, after their whole ordeal, was how protective he was over her. It was especially apparent when they went to shore now. It was like, the moment her feet stepped on land, he was almost glued to her side or walking behind, a companion to her shadow. He didn’t say much when they landed, but he was a constant beside her. It was strange, but in times like those she remembered that he was briefly a guard to the then-Prince of Denmark… 

_ Now he’s taken it upon himself to be  _ my  _ bodyguard? _

He was so strange, but she felt… flattered. And a little weird… If this is how he wanted to spend his time, she supposed she was fine with it, as long as he didn’t go too far again. She shuddered at the memory of that man in the woods, the one who’d tried to attack her. He appeared in her nightmares, his eyes wide as he gaped at her, at Thorfinn, while blood gushed from his throat and from his lips…

Her stomach churned as she shivered, and she grasped her arms tight. It was a crowded market, but she felt that fear again as if she was alone with that boy once more— his face unfeeling and covered in blood. 

She glanced back at him, seeing his eyes scanning the crowd. He looked wary and tired, almost calm even. But he had that knife still strapped to his belt… and he just moved so fast…

_ He must’ve been  _ very  _ good at killing people… _

She knew there was no reason for her to be afraid of him. Whatever was going on in his mind, she knew he didn’t like that she felt that at him. It made him fidgety and uncomfortable, but they hadn’t really talked about it. She wanted to put it in the past and forgive him as quickly as she could. He’d lived that way for so long, as a warrior, of course it was second nature to him. He didn’t think of the wrongness in it, he just wanted to save her life. 

_ I’m grateful…  _ she sighed, turning back to look at her feet.  _ But I’m still a bit scared of him… of what he can do... _

She’d been thinking so deeply that she hadn’t noticed the goings-on around her. She bumped into someone before she could sidestep away. 

“Huh? Oh, sorr-“

The man wasn’t very big, and he couldn’t have been much older than Thorfinn, but he definitely held himself differently. Like that kind of bravado where he had something to prove to anyone and everyone.

When she bumped into him, he sneered a no-good smile. “Hah? You comin’ onto to me, girlie?”

She glared, then mock-smiled. “Oh  _ totally…!  _ Asshole,” she scowled, moving to walk away. 

His hand reached out, pulling at her arm to bring her back. “Where ya goin’? We didn't even get to any fun-“

Before she could give the guy a solid punch in the nose, Thorfinn’s hand shot out suddenly, grasping the guy’s wrist as he held her. 

“Ah- oi!” He exclaimed, dropping her arm as he tried to pull from the vice-like grip. “What’s the big ide-!”

“You’ll lose those fingers if you touch her again,” Thorfinn growled, his voice menacing and low.

Gudrid blinked at him, then at the guy who now seemed torn between pushing it out of bravado, or backing down out of fear. 

Thorfinn gripped his arm harder, and for a moment she had no doubt in her mind that he could crush the kid’s forearm with just one hand… that was the feeling of intimidation he was emitting. Gudrid felt the nerves roiling in her stomach as she felt herself take a wary step back, a cold sweat on her neck. She knew he’d promised he wouldn’t kill anyone for her again, but the image of blood pouring into the snow, that man’s eyes as he died… Those rage filled, dead eyes of Thorfinn's… She felt a shiver run through her, hating this side of him entirely…

In the end, the punk gave in. “F- fine, geez! Thought she was alone anyway!”

He squeezed once more before releasing him. When he scampered off, Thorfinn’s face fell into his default once again. Gudrid folded her arms, frowning, deciding that it was easier to be angry than to be afraid, even though her knees felt weak. He glanced at her, then rolled his eyes briefly. 

“I didn’t hurt him.”

“Yeah, and that was  _ totally  _ an empty threat,” she shot back. 

Thorfinn’s shoulders dropped wearily, continuing on down the lane. “You said not to kill. That wouldn’t have killed him.”

She bit her lip, feeling her skin crawl.  _ I don’t like this… I don’t like this…!  _ “Yeah, but…”

With a sigh, he turned to her, his arms now folded as well. “Tell me what you would’ve had me do instead.”

She stared at him, unsure if he was annoyed or genuinely asking for feedback.  _ He’s so damn hard to read sometimes… _ “Uh, like just now?”

He nodded, a sour frown on his face. 

Swallowing, she turned her eyes to the ground. “I- I just thought you were gonna…” she trailed off, seeing that dead man in the snow again. 

Thorfinn was still, and she was almost afraid to look at him. She did anyway. He was still pretty stoic, as he tended to be, but there was that flicker of discomfort, maybe guilt, like had been there that day in the woods. 

When it came to this, she couldn’t read him at all. 

“Right,” Thorfinn murmured after a moment. 

She blew out a rough breath, trying to rid herself of that oppressive discomfort between the two of them. It didn’t help anything at all. What had happened happened, and there was nothing either of them could do to change it. 

Trying to push it aside, she smiled at him brightly. He was still Leif’s missing kid, the boy she’d worked hard to pry open and get to know. He still saved her life. And she still thought he was cute. Despite this newfound anxiety, she still wanted to be around him. She really did. Him trying to listen to her and not kill anymore was progress. 

Stepping forward, she looped her arm through his and began walking again. He started, but followed her lead without complaint. 

“Well,” she muttered, tapping her fingers to her chin. “I  _ was _ just about to punch him. Maybe next time if that doesn’t dissuade him, then you can give him a whack after I do. Sound good?”

“Sure,” Thorfinn said. It almost sounded like a small laugh. It wasn’t, but she wanted to believe it was. 

Gudrid released him so that they could walk more easily. She placed her hands on her hips and sighed dramatically. 

“It’s such a curse to be so beautiful sometimes!” She barely finished her joking before nearly choking on her words, laughing at herself. 

Thorfinn didn’t say anything, but that was fine. She was happy to just make herself feel comfortable with him again. The best way to do that, really, was just change the subject. 

She clasped her hands together behind her back, smiling at him instead. "What're you gonna do when you go home?"

Thorfinn looked down, biting his lip. "See my mother and sister, I suppose."

"You think you'll stay there?"

He scratched his neck. "I don't know. Probably not."

Gudrid blinked, feeling the somber indecisiveness coming off of him. Maybe being gone so long, he was afraid of trying to live a normal life, away from the wars and violence with people he hadn't seen in over a decade.

"Where else would you go?"

He stopped, his frame more rigid than before. She sighed, wishing she could avoid those soft spots with him more. 

Before she could brush it off, he looked at her and she saw something calmer in his eyes, something past his weariness. "Leif used to talk of Vinland… of how warm and peaceful it is. Maybe I'll go there."

She remembered the stories, and she knew of them well. It was the place where her late husband had died, afterall. She'd wanted to go with him, just to get away from Greenland and see something of the world, but he wouldn't let her. Maybe… if Thorfinn was going… 

"C- could you take me with you, if you go?" she asked hesitantly, looking down with a blush.

Thorfinn stared at her for a few moments before letting out a breath. "Yeah, I will."

She bit her lip, resisting the desire to get her hopes up.  _ This is all hypothetical! Just what-ifs and all that.  _

"I promise," he muttered before walking onwards through the market.

She gaped at him, feeling her eyes misting just a bit. Then her face broke out in a smile. Wiping at her eyes, just bounded after his turned back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment! I’m always so grateful for them and they keep me wanting to finish this!


	13. Lingering Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amidst the confusion within his own thoughts, Thorfinn considers what to do next.

_ She’s a whirlwind, that girl. _

Thorfinn didn’t know how to handle her sometimes. It would be easier to go back to ignoring her, as he had that first while they’d been together. It would’ve been a lot simpler… but that wasn’t what he wanted. Of all the things he couldn’t quite understand within himself, he knew for sure that he wanted to be around her now… for some reason… He was sure he was going crazy or something. Ever since their failed attempt at a hunting trip. Since she’d saved his life, and since he’d saved hers. When she’d almost died in his arms… and when she’d nearly been murdered before his eyes… Since then, he wanted to be in her presence. 

When she wasn't around, he felt the need to know where she'd gone. When she was quiet, he wanted to break the silence. He wanted her to talk to him. He wanted her to embrace him at random, like she tended to do. He didn’t know why, nor did he even know where to begin to find out. He just knew that a part of him was in a way fond. 

So he found himself lingering around her, letting all of that manifest in simply deciding to take upon himself the duty of protecting her, because he didn’t know what else there was to do. 

Which wasn’t something she seemed too pleased with...

He could tell she was uncomfortable with him at times, more than she ever was before... But she compensated for that by acting like she wasn’t, joking around as she did, as if it wasn’t entirely obvious that she really was afraid of him… Knowing that left him feeling queasy.

It was too complicated. He didn’t know what to say. In the end, he just let her take the lead. If she didn’t want to talk about it, that was fine. He could let her pretend everything was fine, pretend like he hadn’t ruined anything by showing her his true nature…

Maybe the discomfort would fade with time. 

“What do you think Vinland’s like?” Gudrid asked, her thumb straining to pin his under it. He wasn’t sure how she’d roped him into such a silly game, but here he was, sitting across from her, playing a kid’s game with their hands intertwined. Another way she was pushing the problem aside, most likely. 

“Green,” he muttered, watching her hand. “Warm.”

“Well, those are obvious. That’s always what Leif talks about,” Gudrid snickered. “I mean, what’ll we see when we’re  _ actually _ there ourselves.”

_ Assuming we ever go there in the first place...  _

He stopped for a moment, considering as he pinned her thumb, ignoring her grunts and hisses of frustration as she tried to free herself. 

“What do  _ you _ think?”

She scoffed, cheating while trying to free herself with a second hand. “I asked you first!”

Thorfinn sighed, pondering the visions of that place he had from his dreams, from his imaginations. The grass lush and full of green, warmth abounding so completely he was sure he could feel it, even through his imagination. Like England, but bigger, less bloody. In his dreams, his father was there. Mother and Sister too... but it was easy to see Gudrid there now, that is, if she still wanted to go with him... 

He shifted his mind to not what was in his dream, but something maybe closer to reality.

_ I suppose Ylva has a family now, from what Leif said…  _ but he couldn’t picture those kids from just his imagination. And his mother might be too sick to travel so far at this point...

“We’ll build houses,” he said finally, his voice quiet. “Keep sheep. And not have to worry about raiders coming.”

Gudrid looked up at him, and he realized his hand had tightened around hers. Really, he had no right to demand such a thing… he himself was a warrior.  _ Murderer…  _ That woman’s voice echoed in his mind briefly… Gudrid's brown eyes looking up at him in horror... 

He bit his lip, stilling at the memories. 

After a moment, Gudrid leaned her head to the side, peaking at him cautiously, definitely aware of this tension. “Yeah… and we could raise fields too.”

Thorfinn looked up tiredly, shoving those thoughts deep away from himself, forcing himself to go numb to it. “Neither of us would know the first thing about cultivating land.”

“Then we’ll just figure it out!” She replied, undeterred. “It’s just throwing some seeds into the dirt, right?”

Leif laughed from a ways away from where he was standing with Mord. “You don’t know much about farming, kid.”

Gudrid pouted. “Like you’d know either! You’re from Greenland too!”

“Maybe so, but at least I’ve seen it done,” Leif snickered. 

“Cultivating fields is harder than you think,” Mord said with humor. “You’d need a plow to do it well, and lots of help for a field to be big enough to even be worth it.”

“Huh,” Gudrid let go of him and folded her arms, pondering. “I just thought you planted seeds and stuff.”

“There’s a lot more to it than that,” Leif sat on the trunk across from them. 

After that, he and Mord both took turns telling stories of what they’d seen. Lands filled to the brim with golden wheat, barley, and any other crop that could grow in the mild and fertile England. 

Gudrid had settled herself beside Thorfinn now, eagerly taking in the tales like she was a little kid. He couldn’t blame her, honestly. The feeling was familiar. If he strained, he could almost hear the fire crackling in the pit of his childhood home as Leif’s words wove stories of perilous seas and lush lands. At that moment, he was almost certain that the past decade had been a long and terrible dream… that his father was on his way back. Once he came through the door, he’d say it was time for bed, that he shouldn’t stay up all night for Leif’s stories. He shut his eyes as Leif spoke, seeing his father’s kind smile. 

The grief he felt was no longer drenched in rage now that Askeladd was gone. Without that, he wasn’t sure how to feel when he thought of Thors. It was a quiet, longing feeling that felt deeper than himself, stretching further than he could reach. It was the stinging urge to cry, even as his eyes remained dry. 

“-after all that, he just took the scythe from my hand and told me that I should never step foot in a field again!” 

Gudrid cackled at the tale with Leif and the rest who were listening. Thorfinn sighed, bringing himself back to the present. 

The night ended up just being filled to the brim with stories and laughter. Leif even made Gudrid sing a song— saying it was one of the only things she could do right, which earned him a solid whack. Still, Thorfinn was glad for it. 

She was… very good. 

The only music he’d heard in a long while was drunken warriors shouting songs of conquest and women. Gudrid’s song was something entirely different. It was quiet and skilled, cutting through the night air clearly. It was a gentle tune which told the story of a woman waiting for her sailor to return— then he never did, but she was still cheery, despite having been abandoned. 

Even though it was a sad song, he still thought she seemed really beautiful as she stood there singing— a rare thing to be found in this cursed world. He felt himself relax more than he could ever remember doing, shutting his eyes as he let her sound wash over him.

“Gosh, it’s been a bit since I’ve sung like that,” she blushed as she sat back down, their circle of sailors applauding her. Thorfinn clapped as well, watching her from the side. 

“Lovely as ever,” Mord said with a smile. 

“The only thing  _ lovely _ about her,” Leif smirked, poking fun at her. 

Gudrid chucked a cup at his head, huffing and pouting. 

_ Lovely,  _ he pondered, glancing at her again. 

After singing and listening to so many tales that night, Gudrid must’ve been very tired. Amidst that last one, though it had been an exciting story with ghosts and mystery, she'd fallen asleep, leaning heavily against him. When she had, he'd been surprised, but now he was used to the weight. Carefully, he lifted his hand to her back, holding her securely so she didn't fall over backward. Her warmth was a pleasant feeling.

Eventually the night quieted down and the crew went off to their various duties or sleep. It was very different from Askeladd’s crew… They were boisterous and vulgar and drunk much of the time. He was glad to never see even one of them again… Leif's crew was small, but from what he could tell they were decent men, which wasn't much of a surprise. It was a very different kind of company.

Leif laughed at the sight of them when he stood, and Thorfinn had the brief thought that he should’ve seen them in the woods that night, if he thought this was humorous...

“You want me to wake her?”

Thorfinn looked at her, her face completely slack as she was beginning to drool. “It’s fine,” he muttered back to Leif. 

He nodded, then laid a blanket over their backs. Thorfinn looked up as Leif crouched in front of them. 

"I'm grateful you wanna take care of her," Leif said. "If anything happened to her out here… well, I'd never forgive her or myself."

Thorfinn swallowed, looking at the sleeping girl again, unease swirling within him. "I'm not so sure she really wants me to…"

Confusion crossed Leif's face, and Thorfinn half-shrugged. "When we were in the woods, a man tried to attack her… and I killed him."

Leif's face turned solemn, but he nodded all the same, so knowingly. As if he knew exactly what Thorfinn was feeling. He had that same thought with Gudrid frequently. Was he really so transparent?

"She… she's been trying to act like she's not afraid of me since then… but I can tell she is," he sighed, more words coming out than he was intending. 

She felt relaxed against him, her hands curled against her chest as she snored lightly. He couldn't help but think that this was more at ease than he'd seen her in a while, since that trip... because half the time it felt like she was forcing herself around him. If she was so uncomfortable and afraid, why did she bother to try with him? She could've easily told him to leave her alone, and he would. He'd understand. It wasn't something he wanted, but he'd understand. 

"I guess I can relate to her feelings," Leif said quietly. "After all, the first time I saw you again was in York when you killed that assassin."

Thorfinn looked up, blinking at the old man. "You're… afraid of me too?"

Leif shook his head. "Of you, no. But what you've become is vastly different than how you were as a child. No, I was afraid of that. And I was afraid I'd never be able to reach you through all that."

He looked down, taking in the words as they sunk like ice through his bones.  _ Even Leif… _

Leif reached a hand out to grasp his free shoulder, a smile deepening the wrinkles on his face. "But look how far you've come in just two months, Thorfinn. Don't stop now. You've only just begun the healing you need."

_ I haven't done anything…  _ he wanted to say, his frown deepening. If Gudrid wasn't passed out on his shoulder, he would've given in to the sudden urge to get up and leave. He couldn't even pin down why he felt so uncomfortable now, he just did.  _ I don't know what you're talking about, old man.  _

After a few moments of silence, Leif sighed, pulling his hand away. "Anyway, if you want to do something about how she's acting, talk to her. Tell her you're sorry. Make amends. Do what you can to help her feel safe around you again."

Thorfinn felt his chest tighten at the words, knowing that he was probably right. Why she'd trusted him in the first place was still beyond him, but having that trust taken away was… less than appealing. 

"I'll… talk to her," he said quietly. 

Leif smiled again, then made his way to his own bedroll.

With a sigh, Thorfinn leaned his head back against the crate behind them, letting his eyes linger on the stars in the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! Please please leave a comment!


	14. Making Amends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT 3/30: I posted that art I promised! It ended up being a full color storyboard! (I got a lot of ‘free time’....) https://twitter.com/kate_7h/status/1244855538048851969?s=21

Words were harder than he’d originally thought… Thorfinn found that the more he tried to think through what he wanted to say to her, the more at a loss he felt. All he had were her actions and reactions to go off, so he found the subject hard to broach. 

_ I just know she’s afraid…  _ he could recognize fear in a person, at the very least. 

The more he thought about the reasons for her fear, and for Leif’s as well, the more he realized that he didn’t want to think about it. It was almost like his mind was resisting the notion in its entirety. To make those around him afraid like that, he had to be very scary. And he apparently was. He knew that, to be honest, but at the same time it surprised him. 

_ I am a murderer…  _ and he had never thought truly about how terrifying that fact was. And when he tried to separate himself— his own person and mind from that fact, he found that he was at a loss. He tried to put it from his mind, but those thoughts still clung like tree sap on skin. 

Still, he’d decided to try to make amends with Gudrid at the very least…  _ somehow…  _ Which is how he’d ended up in the woods just offshore with her, teaching her some fighting skills. 

“So if I just point my foot like this, I’ll be able to punch better?” Gudrid asked, crouched in a stance. 

Thorfinn folded his arms, examining how she held herself. “Your power comes from your legs, not your arms, so make sure you’ve got a strong stance.”

She blinked at him, then looked down at her legs. She scooched a bit, lowering herself a few centimeters. “Like this?”

He hummed, then pushed at her shoulder. She sputtered, but he’d expected her to fall, so he hung on. 

“Oi, you-!”

“Stronger,” he said, releasing her. “Otherwise you’ll hurt your arm in the process.”

Gudrid sighed, dropping the stance entirely and folding her arms in a pout. “And why did you feel the need to force a punching lesson on me?”

Thorfinn frowned.  _ Maybe because you’ve already run into multiple dangerous, horny scoundrels? Maybe because you don’t like me fighting your battles for you? Maybe one of these days you’ll have to defend yourself alone?  _ All were reasonable replies, and any of them could work. 

“You said you wanted to punch that guy. I wanted to make sure you didn’t break your fingers in the process.”

She smirked, clasping her hands against her chest in a mock cheer. “Aw, you do care!”

He just rolled his eyes. “I don’t  _ have _ to teach you.”

“Oh, please do, Leif threatened to make me cook tonight,” she laughed, and he agreed that it was a better outcome, teaching her to fight. 

This time, she dropped into a firmer stance, and the punch she threw into his palm actually held some power. 

“Rely on your legs more, not just the strength in your arms.”

She huffed, then threw another punch. It was better. 

They kept at this for a while, Thorfinn walking her through a few basic hand-to-hand techniques that could be useful to her. Nothing lethal… but useful defense. 

“So,” she said as they came back to practicing punches. “What  _ really  _ made you wanna teach me this? Because you were kinda bullshitting me before, weren’t you?”

Thorfinn raised a brow, weirded out again and again how close to truth she always seemed to read from him. He wanted take Leif’s advice from a few days ago. He wanted to make amends somehow. If she had a problem with how he protected her, then he’d teach her to do it herself… It was more than that, and he  _ wanted  _ to talk to her, but… he still couldn’t find the words. 

“I’m not bullshitting you,” he murmured. “I think it’d be useful to you.”

Evasion again. The plan really was to talk this out with her.  _ Somehow…  _ This really was entirely new territory for him. It had been ages since he'd actually needed to 'talk something out' with anyone. He was more used to, if he had a problem with someone, just straight up trying to kill them— that someone namely being Askeladd. But that was besides the point.

Gudrid looked up, a suspicious glare on her face. “Uh-huh…”

_ There she goes again…  _ He really was entirely transparent to her. Could she see him grasping for words that just wouldn’t come? He supposed he should give her some credit; she acted quite confrontational to a man who frightened her so. 

She punched into his hand again, her form improved with each strike. He quietly let her continue, his brow furrowed. 

“It’s a wonder…” he began, eyes cast to the side. “That you agreed to this at all.”

She paused, looking at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

He swallowed as he glanced at her, finding his throat to be dry. “I mean… you agreed to come out here alone with someone like me…”

Her eyes widened, and he looked down to the dirt, feeling the writhing shame in his stomach. “I’m not an idiot, you know. I can tell that you’re pretending to be fine, but what you really are… is terrified of me… am I right?”

Birds chirped in the distance, the silence dragging on for a few moments as he stared at the ground. 

"I- I wasn't trying to…" she trailed off, her feet shifted in front of him. "I mean- you, no, I'm not."

His mouth deepened in a frown, raising his eyes a bit. "You don't have to lie. I get it."

Before he could lower his hand, she punched into it again. He blinked, seeing her fall back into her frame. Her face was set in that tight pout she got when she was angry. She threw another, her fist smacking into his palm. "Okay, fine. You did freak me out back then. What of it?"

"What of it?" he muttered, holding himself firmer to take her punches. "What the hell do you mean?"

She just about growled, punching harder now. "I don't get why you're bringing it up. You said you wouldn't do it again, so it's in the past. We don't have to talk about it."

He gaped at her now. "You- what?”

"What do you want, huh?" she whined, nerves visible on her face. "I'm trying my best, okay? I'm not trying to be a jerk or anything, I get it! It's not like I super understand, but we're different people with different stories. I'm not trying to judge you, I just-" She got in about five more punches as she frantically babbled. 

"Geez," she mumbled, tears shining in her eyes. 

Thorfinn gaped at her again, utterly confused. "No- what?! No, that's not what I-"

"I mean, it's not like I would've had you do anything different than what you did!" She punched into his hand again, her teeth gritted as her voice raised. "Like, I  _ know  _ what that guy wanted to do! I  _ know  _ you saved my life, but-!"

She punched again, her fist trembling against his palm. "I- I can't help it… I can't help but see him dying…  _ all the time…  _ And I- I see you like  _ that,  _ how you were, and I just-!"

She bowed her head, holding her fist still against him. "I've been trying to separate it in my head, because that's… it's not you, is it? I get that you had to, but you- I- I don't want to see you as some cold-hearted killer. But that's what I saw, and I just- I've been trying to push it aside because I  _ want  _ you to be my friend— just, tell me that's not you, 'cause I- I don't know anymore…"

Thorfinn watched her as she trembled, her fist still pressed into his palm. His chest felt tight, a sinking, sick feeling in his gut. Everything she said was true. It was all true. He'd never really thought of it being wrong, it was only a means to an end. All the people he'd killed were simply enemies. Their blood was on his hands, but he never really thought about it. 

_ I killed so I could duel… _

Thinking about it in such simple terms really made him think on how selfish and childish it had all been.

"Gudrid," he muttered, feeling that quiet anxiety creep up his spine. "I never meant to make you more afraid…"

He bit his lip, feeling his hand close gently around her fist, trying to keep a hold on her. "I only wanted to protect your life… I didn't want him to… I guess I'm just sorry… you had to see me like that."

Gudrid was still now, looking at her shoes and definitively not at him.

"I don't know what else I can say other than that…" 

The air was still, and he bit his lip.  _ Surely this means she can't separate the two…  _ He wasn't sure how she could, since this was the person he'd become. He'd allowed this to happen. It didn't feel right, it never had. He just… with so much rage pulsing through him constantly for all that time, he didn't consider it. He hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it. He still didn't. He didn't know where to begin. Maybe he would've been able to figure it out with this girl who gave him countless chances and actively reached for him… but now, it seemed like even that was ending.

With a shudder, he prepared himself to turn and leave her to herself. He was willing to let her sever this tie they'd somehow formed. It was better for her, anyway. It didn't matter that his chest was tight at the thought… it was his fault to begin with.

"Tell me you don't enjoy it," she said suddenly, just as he was about to pull his hand from her and walk away. He lifted his eyes, blinking at her.

"Enjoy it…?"

She nodded. "You- I- I- know you were a warrior, but you- it never seemed like you were happy about it. There's some guys you'll see that just love hurting people, and showing off their skill, and bragging about their conquests— just… tell me you're not like that…"

He looked at her, feeling shame in his heart. No, that was never him. Killing was a tool. He thought of Thorkell and that man's entire existence… and of Askeladd laughing in his last minutes as he slaughtered left and right. Thorfinn killed nonchalantly, as needed. It was never a game like it was to men like that. The glee those warriors got never crossed him as anything other than a sick nuisance.

"I've never…" he started, feeling his hand grip against hers almost subconsciously. "I've never gotten pleasure from it. Some men see battle as a game, but… I never did."

Gudrid looked up at that, blinking at him with wide eyes. He couldn't even begin to guess what she was thinking. He bowed his head again, finding it hard to look her in the eye. 

"Sorry," he repeated quietly.

He felt her move, and he watched as she opened her hand, sliding her fingers against him until their palms pressed together. His skin tingled lightly where her fingernails had traced against his hand. Gently, she laced her fingers with his, surprising him further. He blinked at her, trying and failing to comprehend what she was thinking. 

She shut her eyes with a deep breath, then she smiled. "I'm glad I wasn't wrong about you."

He gaped at her, eyes widening. Even as such a small smile, it was so bright. He almost couldn't describe it— and he definitely didn't deserve such utter relief and joy being directed at him. For a moment, it felt like it had that night she'd sung, when Mord had called her lovely. He wasn't sure anything else could describe it- or her. His face felt warm, flushing at just the sight of her happiness. Even though it didn’t mean a thing in the grand scheme of things that he didn’t ‘enjoy’ killing, it seemed to make enough of a difference for her. 

_ What a strange and lovely person...  _

She squeezed his hand, tugging him forward, and he went willingly, letting her envelope him in her embrace. Their hands were still firmly intertwined as she buried her face in his shoulder. The hand about his back slid up his neck, twining in his hair, pressing him to bury his face in her as well. He let her, deflating against her.

“Were you worried I wouldn’t be your friend anymore?” She asked, her voice muffled in his clothes. 

He didn’t respond, quietly taking in the whole situation, wondering how he had ever gotten to this point with another person.

She squeezed him tighter, her fingers still in his hair. “Dummy. I’m not going anywhere.”

Whether or not her words were actually how he was feeling, his chest still seemed to ease, filling him with a warmth similar to those dreams he had, with sunshine and clear skies, and rolling fields across endless land. His hand lifted, sliding against her shoulder, pressing her closer to him as he let his eyes close, breathing in her gentle softness.

They held each other like that for a long while, and he found himself reveling in the contact. She was warm not just because of proximity… it was something within. He didn’t know how to describe it other than the feeling in that dream… she was the first warm sunshine on your face after a long and dark winter. She didn’t belong in Greenland… She belonged in the sun and wildflowers. 

One day... someday he’d take her to Vinland where the land reflected her soul.

After a long time, she finally pulled away, keeping his hand firmly in hers as she smiled at him. “We should probably head back, huh?”

He frowned, feeling her absence acutely. He nodded regardless, at a loss for words. She just smiled again, tugging him along with her. He felt like a child, being led like that, but he still followed her mutely. After a bit, she began talking casually to him, as if none of this was strange. As if that interaction had been the most normal thing- when in reality, he felt different in ways he wasn’t sure how to describe, even in his own thoughts. It was jarring, but a nice feeling too.  _ What the hell did she do to me…? _

For a brief moment, he wondered what Askeladd would say, seeing him like this with another person— making bonds he’d never bothered to form before.

He grasped her hand tighter, following her out of the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! And thank you for your comments, not kidding, it's the primary reason I've kept writing this!


	15. Proximity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I hope everyone's doing alright in this hard time. I send out cyber-hugs to all who want/need them. I'm doin' alright, thank you to all for asking! My husband is a nurse, so he's working a lot of hours at his hospital and doing his best. This + school has been a good distraction from me being worried...
> 
> This chapter's a bit on the short side, but I think it has everything it needed. Thank you!

After that day, everything felt a little bit different. Gudrid no longer seemed to have that discomfort around him. She spoke with him happily, hugged him freely, and all-around remained at his side more often than not. And he clung to her like he’d never done before with another soul. Of course he’d chased Askeladd for over a decade, but that was a hate-driven desire for vengeance. It wasn’t the same. What drove his desire to follow Gudrid was… inexplicable. He felt like he was chasing that dream he often had of that warm, new country. He couldn’t seem to describe it any other way, but he was resisting the idea of being separated from her when they finally arrived in Iceland. 

He’d even considered asking her to stay in Iceland with him… just so he wouldn’t have to be parted from her.

But that was selfish, wasn’t it? After all, he was nothing more than a murderer… He shouldn’t have the right to ask such a thing of her.

...At the same time, he knew she would say yes if he were to ask… For that reason alone, he knew he shouldn’t.

“Thorfinn, why can’t I get this right, eh?” She cried, throwing her head back in an exaggerated pout as she dropped the spare sail they were mending into her lap. 

He leaned into her space, finding himself so much more comfortable with that than he ever would have been before. He picked up her section and examined the sporadic stitch work. “Just try to make your stitch straight across the tear, but you can probably get away with leaving this part as is.”

She giggled, and he glanced at her, realizing he’d leaned over her in such a way that left his face mere centimeters from hers. His lungs felt frozen as his ears burned. Oh hell, he was practically lying in her lap...

_ Dammit, girl…  _

He straightened up, turning his eyes back to his own section without a word. Even though he firmly kept his eyes down, he could  _ feel  _ her grin on him.

“It’s amazing how much better you are at sewing than me,” she just chuckled, turning back to her stitches. 

“Leif already showed me how,” he murmured.

“But still, isn’t it your first time?”

“No.”

“You know how to sew?” Her tone was incredulous, and he sighed.

“Traveling as I did, I only had the clothes I wore. Mending was necessary, especially when it was cold.” He dug the needle through the dense material again, pulling it out towards him. “And it’s not all that different from sutures either.”

“Sutures…?”

Thorfinn glanced at her, seeing concern on her face. He shrugged, looking back at the stitch. “It’s a method of preventing bleeding and hastening healing.”

“Yeah, I know… You- you did that to yourself, didn’t you?”

He frowned, pulling another stitch through. “Of course I did. Rarely did I let someone else treat me if I was wounded.”

“I’m not surprised,” she said quickly, almost as if she sensed his discomfort. Then she looked down, almost looking like she wanted to cry. “It’s just, so much of your past makes me so sad.”

Thorfinn scoffed, but didn't reply. He already knew that. He didn't need pity or anything. He knew that’s not what she was doing, but if he didn’t lean into the annoyance he felt, then he would have to acknowledge the strange, touching warmth at her care. He said nothing about either. 

After a moment of quietly stitching, she was hugging him again. He stopped, looking at her as she latched onto his arm. Moving the sail from his lap, he turned towards her, lightly grasping her arm as she clung to him. 

"I'm here now," he muttered tiredly. "Just forget all that." That's what he was trying to do, after all.

Gudrid nodded, retracting her arm to settle for holding his hand between hers. He looked down, seeing how smooth her skin was as opposed to his own battle-torn hands. He wasn't much older than her, but he was sure by their hands the difference seemed more apparent than it should've been.

"From now on, I'll tend to whatever wounds you get, so you won't have to do it alone anymore, okay?" She said, her hands squeezing his as she looked up at him earnestly.

He sighed, finding it within himself to no longer be surprised by her. She was just like that. Strange and compassionate and soft. That warm feeling in his chest returned again and again, still indescribable, but growing more and more familiar and comfortable. He found himself squeezing her hands gently in return.  _ Maybe I’ll teach her a bit more wound care techniques for that kind of situation. _ "Sure."

"Alright." She nodded again, releasing him before turning back to her mending.

His eyes lingered on her face a few moments longer than he’d intended, then he let out a soft breath, focusing on his own section once more. 

* * *

Leif honestly never would’ve seen it coming. He thought of that hate-filled, vengeful boy he’d found on the docks a mere two months ago. How he’d screamed with rage, vowing revenge and justice. Then how despondent he’d become with almost a snap of the fingers, a shell with all substance forcibly removed. How heartbreaking just looking at him had been… 

Now, Leif couldn’t stop the smile as he shook his head at the boy, seated beside that troublesome girl as they held their hands together, any and all signs of discomfort or fear gone. They were probably not getting nearly enough done on that sail, but he didn’t have the heart to tell them off. 

Gudrid smiled at him and hugged him and laughed happily, and Thorfinn accepted it all willingly. It wasn’t a reciprocation, but it was probably as close as the boy could get for the time being. 

Leif chuckled to himself, amazed. 

_ Who would’ve thought my two most troublesome stowaways…?  _

Although Leif knew Thorfinn didn’t speak with him easily, (he wasn’t a pretty girl, after all), he still wanted to breach the subject with him. If not for anything else but his own entertainment. 

“I take it the conversation went well?” Leif asked later while Thorfinn helped him moor the boat to the dock. 

Thorfinn blinked at the man, then shrugged. “I guess so.”

Leif chuckled, tying off his end. “She seems quite comfortable with you now, I’d say.”

Thorfinn just looked at him, then scratched at his face as his cheeks tinged with color.  _ Ah, young love. _ It sure happened frequently enough, but he was still surprised to see it in Thorfinn. It seemed to be doing wonders for him though. And Leif was glad of it. He’d barely been able to have a full conversation with the kid a mere month ago. Now he seemed almost happy. 

“I dunno why she does that,” Thorfinn admitted, looking down. “I dunno…”

_ Because she likes you, you dumb kid,  _ Leif didn’t say that aloud, but he smirked regardless. It really wasn’t Thorfinn’s fault. His life and everything he’d experienced… Leif was sure this was his first time ever having the opportunity to feel anything other than the rage he’d pumped himself full of. 

Come to think of it, he’d never seen Gudrid be all that interested in anyone before either, not that he was around her all the time, or paying attention to it. Her marriage to his brother was a social joining of houses, (and also a way for her parents to release that cooped up free-spirit that she was). But Thorstein never wanted to marry. He wanted to explore and see the world, damn him. 

Dying over in the new world was always a risk.  _ Stupid boy,  _ he found himself thinking not for the first time, feeling that ache in his heart for his little brother.  _ He probably picked the fight that ended his life…  _

Considering the situation at hand once more, he realized that with Gudrid widowed from his own house, he was now responsible for deciding any future marriages for her. 

The thought almost made him laugh aloud, especially when he considered throwing that joke at Thorfinn, just to see how he’d react. He knew he probably shouldn’t, but it was  _ tempting.  _ As kids do, they were so caught up with their own selves and situation, they tended to forget there was anyone else on the ship. It was so easy to see the mutually growing affections between them. 

Leif chuckled again, letting it go.  _ All in good time, I’m sure.  _ But that didn’t mean he couldn’t press it in different ways. 

“Gudrid is a nuisance and an idiot, but she really is a special soul, isn’t she?”

_ Asking questions usually gets him talking a bit more,  _ Leif smiled to himself, probing the topic as he casually watched Thorfinn’s face. Thorfinn looked up at him with mild surprise, then a light blush traced his cheeks once again. 

“Yeah,” he muttered, turning away while he scratched at his neck. “I guess I’m glad she decided to be my friend.”

And  _ that  _ was probably as much admittance as he was gonna get. Leif smiled, and all joking aside, he felt grateful to Gudrid again and again. It really was her quirky, weird, outspoken self that had gotten through to Thorfinn and let him ease into what he was becoming. 

_ Don’t give up now, kid. You’re doing great. Just keep going! _

Rather than say any of that aloud, Leif just smiled again and let it go. 

“Hey, help an old man out with these supplies, will ya?” He said as he turned to handle a heavy crate. 

Thorfinn stood for a moment, seemingly lost in thought before looking back to Leif. 

“Ah- sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much and please leave a comment! (Also be excited for next chap, it's gonna be a fun ride ;)
> 
> Also here's a link for chapter art: https://twitter.com/kate_7h/status/1247544780768169984?s=20


	16. Lightning and Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's on the short side, but I hope still a fun time! Art will linked shortly~ (link in the end notes because spoils)

It was long after dark. Thorfinn sat beside Gudrid on the grassy shore. She spoke quietly, her voice not much louder than the crackling of the fire pit. She tended to do that— fill any of his silence with her words. Sometimes Leif joined in and the two of them squabbled good-naturedly. He just looked on, unsure of what to say. It was similar to what he remembered from his childhood. Of Leif the Lucky coming to his home and entertaining him and the rest of the children with stories upon stories of the grand places he'd been and the lands far across the sea. But arguments of the validity of his tales always seemed to crop up. Then he behaved just like a kid himself, sputtering and squawking until it was time for bed. 

He supposed that’s what it seemed like when Leif and Gudrid fought. Like kids. They were close though. Thorfinn wondered… had he been able to sail the merchant seas as a child with Leif, he’d have probably gotten to know Gudrid the same way Leif did. 

_ Maybe these last eleven years would never have happened…  _

But it was late, and Leif and the rest of the crew had already gone to sleep in the tents. Gudrid was even nodding off. Thorfinn felt tired, although he often felt tired, but not sleepy. He wasn't sure why they were still awake, but he didn't mind. He just sat, looking up at the stars as the dying fire popped. 

“...and that one’s the North Star,” she yawned, looking up at all the constellations she’d named, ending on the only one he’d known by name before. For some reason, she felt the need to keep herself awake to list them for him. 

“There wasn’t much for me to do when I lived with my family before, so my siblings and I would watch the stars that Leif had told us the names of.”

He glanced at her before looking back to the sky. “It’s something useful to know, being a sailor. Leif can even navigate without always seeing the stars.”

Gudrid sighed, still gazing up at the sky. “I don’t wanna go home… I wanna be a sailor forever…”

Thorfinn watched her face, feeling something stir within him. They’d had this conversation a number of times. Gudrid wishing to be able to choose what she wanted for her life, and him feeling at a loss.  _ Maybe one day… _ he found himself thinking, but wasn't sure how to say it. He'd promised her he'd bring her to Vinland, but even if that was possible, it would be quite some time before he could ever accomplish that… She was to return home by the end of winter.

He’d been thinking hard on his desire to ask her to come to Iceland with him now… Maybe he was resisting the fact that after this trip ended she would no longer be beside him. 

It was strange, but he feared everything he felt now would disappear as soon as she did...

He didn’t know what else he could do for her, so he kept quiet. He felt a dull pang in his chest, watching her look so mournfully up at the sky. She longed to be free so desperately, he could almost feel it grow tangible in the air about them. 

...He didn’t feel all that free either, if he was being honest. 

Despite the fact the Askeladd was gone now, he was still bound to everything he was, everything he’d lived for. The nightmares raged on nightly, but he often had no idea what he was dreaming of. 

It was a trap, longing to see the world, and then to be destroyed by it. Maybe it was better Gudrid was going home before that could happen to her. Before she saw even more brutality and death— what she had seen at his own hands…

That look of horror on her face passed through his mind once more, and he clenched his hands together where they sat in his lap. He was lucky… lucky she still wanted him around after that. And more than that, she’d forgiven him. After everything, she really had. He almost couldn’t comprehend it. He couldn’t fathom it. And yet it was true. 

He imagined how it could’ve gone… she could’ve easily turned her back on him —her lost-cause project— and been angry with him or ignored him for the rest of their journey. She didn’t, it was the opposite…. but she definitely could have. He wasn’t sure what he would’ve done, had that happened. Part of him probably would’ve felt relieved, the part that wished for silence and nonexistence. But the part of him which reached for her as she did for him, which wanted to keep talking with her, and seeing her smile at him, the part that wanted to be held by her, and hold her in return, the part that so desperately wanted to save her life and keep her alive and happy as she was— that part would’ve hated it, if she had given up on him. 

She was still talking about stars, seemingly not noticing the change in his frame, nor the thoughts reverberating through him. 

“Gudrid,” Thorfinn muttered before he really had the words in his head. She stopped speaking and looked at him. 

“Yeah?”

He bit his lip, glancing at her tiredly. “Thanks.”

She blinked. “For what?”

He just shrugged, feeling his face warm a bit. “Just… for everything, I guess.”

She was quiet and he scratched at his face, feeling awkward. “You didn’t have to forgive me, but you did. I… didn’t realize that it would…" He stopped, no words coming after that. His face was warmer now. "I- thank you.”

Still, she said nothing. Uncomfortable, he turned away from her. 

It was quiet between them after that, and he stared at his shoes. Before he could think of anything else to say, he felt her hands wrap around his arm. He blinked, turning to look at her. 

...In that instant, her lips were suddenly pressed haphazardly against his.

His eyes flew wide open, gaping at her in astonishment.  _ What the- why in the hell-?! She’s kissing me? She’s kissing me?!  _

Before even two seconds passed, she pulled away from him, as much surprise on her face as was on his. 

“Ah-! I didn’t mean-! I- I-!” She stuttered, her face almost entirely red —his own face was so hot, he was sure he looked about the same. She buried it in her hands, hiding from his wide-eyed stare. “I was just trying to kiss your cheek!” She wailed, seemingly curling into herself. 

He turned his eyes forward once more, gaping at the fire instead of her shrinking form, shaken from the jolt that had raced through him at her kiss. “O- oh…”

_So she really was meaning to kiss me…_ which made even less sense then it _somehow_ being a total accident. Even just on the cheek, that was for courting, wasn’t it? Was she trying to do _that?_ _With me?!_ He had no idea. His whole life before these last months had been _everything_ but _that!_ He only knew war. He wasn’t that good at understanding people or interactions, except when calculating a battle strategy. Why would this girl even _want_ to kiss him?! 

The fire crackled as they continued to sit in silence. Thorfinn scratched his neck, glancing sideways at her. She still had her face buried, and even in the light of the fire, he could see her ears were red all the way to their tips.  _ The hell am I supposed to do here?  _

“W- why?” He murmured awkwardly. 

“Huh?” Gudrid said, head jetting up to gape at him. 

He swallowed, feeling blood rush in his ears. He scratched at his face again. “Why would you… wanna kiss me?”

“I- I mean-!” She chirped, looking almost more panicked now. “I was just- I dunno! You’re really cute, and nice when you wanna be, and you saved my life, and I wasn’t expecting you to thank me, and I just-! I just felt like it?! I dunno, man…”

He raised his eyebrows at her words.  _ Cute? Nice?  _ Well now he was even more confused. For almost his whole life, he’d been nothing more than a raging, feral animal. What about that was cute or nice?

“Huh…” he breathed, looking at the fire once more. 

Gudrid sat up straight, her hands clasped against her knees. “I’m sorry, that was really stupid and forward of me. I won’t do it again, I promise. I just- I wasn’t thinking, ya know-?”

“It’s okay.”

“What?!”

Thorfinn blinked at her, then shrugged. “It’s fine. You don’t have to apologize.”

“O- oh,” Gudrid said, her eyes wide again.

After a few moments, she laughed a bit. He looked at her mutely, questioning. 

“It’s just-!” Gudrid started. “I thought you were saying it was okay to kiss ya!”

Despite himself, he felt his lips curve up at her misunderstanding. It was… interesting. Not something he’d ever experienced before— well, technically he  _ had,  _ when he was trying to revive her that time in the woods, he had pressed his lips to hers, but that wasn’t a kiss or anything… he’d just been trying to get breath into her body. His mind was solely on saving her life, not anything else…

As messy as it was, an actual kiss felt entirely different...

Though it had been brief, her kiss had sent that staggering jolt through him, almost like the quick and flashing heat of lightning in a storm— when your hair stands up on the back of your neck, filling you with some kind of charge from the phenomenon. It was too quick to tell much else other than that, just something twisted up in his chest. After it all, he was left with that evermore-familiar warmth growing within him. 

He touched a finger to his mouth, still feeling a pleasant tingling sensation where her lips had been pressed to his. 

“Don’t be stupid,” he murmured as the small smile lingered on his face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 Link to art: https://twitter.com/kate_7h/status/1250832844005314561?s=20
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment! Stay safe out there!


	17. Smile For Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this was one of my favorite chapters I've written in this story! Okay thanks!
> 
> Art: https://twitter.com/kate_7h/status/1255548106797506560?s=19

It was amazing how happy a single person could feel. Gudrid knew she was overreacting— that it wasn’t that big of a deal, that it was all just a silly little accident— but she didn’t care. She couldn’t stop the big, dumb smile from lingering on her face the next morning, despite being tired from staying awake half the night thinking about it. She couldn’t help as a little giggle escaped her lips. She couldn’t help it as her eyes more often than not fell on the boy her thoughts kept returning to. 

_ I won’t sigh at Thorfinn…! I won’t sigh at that dumb, dirty, viking boy…! _

But who was she kidding; she sighed, she blushed, she giggled. It was so  _ so stupid! _

_ Hey Thorfinn, can we just pretend you said it was fine so that I can kiss you again? Thaaaaanks… _

Over and over again, she caught herself thinking about that ‘little accident,’ and her heart felt like it would burst. It hadn’t even been a second! Okay, maybe it was a little more than a second… but the feeling of how soft his lips were— even if it was just a sloppy peck— he felt so much softer than she would’ve  _ ever  _ expected… This morning as he greeted her, she was so thoroughly distracted, staring at his mouth, she barely got out a stupid  _ “huh?” _

_ Gaaaaaah!! _

She growled at herself, mussing her hair in frustration. 

_ I’m being so stupid, right? He’s definitely not feeling what I’m feeling, right?  _

At that thought, she looked across the boat at him. He was just helping Mord cook breakfast, looking down as he stirred the pot. The sun seemed to perfectly illuminate his profile, and there she was— smiling a dopey smile before she’d even realized it. She watched him a minute more, just the normal, tired frown lined his lips, and she felt all the more warmed at her memory. 

Although she truly was beyond distracted by that accidental peck they’d shared, it was more than that... Because after she’d kissed him and when those initial flusters had settled down, even if it was small, he  _ smiled.  _

_ He smiled! Thorfinn actually smiled! _

Though they hadn’t spoken much after it happened, she'd seen his lips curve into the smallest smile she’d ever seen. But it  _ was _ there… that tiny glimmer of happiness was actually visible on his face. The moment she'd seen it, she was sure a bright smile from that boy could easily light up a room. It was something she’d been hoping for ever since he'd first come onto the boat, broken and tattered as he'd been... to see him smile, to see him happy. 

She wanted more. She wanted a wide grin and laughter and nothing but sheer joy on his face, not his usual stoic stare and slight frown. 

But they'd been together for around two months now, and that had been the first time she'd seen him smiling… She wondered what she could do to get her wish.

_ I could always kiss him again…  _

Gudrid giggled to herself, continuing to tie down the sail as she tried to cool her blushing cheeks. That was likely a terrible plan, but it was fun to fantasize about. She glanced at him again, biting her lip as she just about melted.  _ Oh, this is no good… I have to act normal… _

That might be tough…

It ended up taking her some time to figure out exactly what her plan was— how to achieve her goal. 

In the meantime, she stumbled over herself around him, hyper aware of every look or touch. He’d tapped her on the shoulder once and she’d just about shrieked. Oh and blushing… so much blushing. 

He seemed… unsure of what to do? Like she could tell he was trying to act normal as well, but she could see the blood pooling in his cheeks too. Even so, he tried, and she was the one making this awkward and difficult. 

_ But—! _

Her goal was to get him to smile again. Putting aside everything else, she just wanted him to smile. 

Still unsure about  _ how  _ she was going to do that, she swallowed down her butterflies and sat beside him as he wound some rope together in a bundle. 

She didn’t say anything, and he glanced at her in mild surprise. She just smiled at him, ignoring the blush in her cheeks. 

“What?” He said, confused at her demeanor. 

On impulse, she reached out and pulled on the rope, undoing the bundle which had nearly been complete. He blinked at the mess of rope at his feet, then at her, more confused. 

“W- why?”

Gudrid laughed then, giggling to herself. She didn’t even know what to say to him, but she was highly amused. Without a word, she got up and skipped away, leaving him blinking dumbfoundedly at her. 

Unable to think of a better plan, she ended up doing that all day— undoing something he’d been working on, messing up something he’d just finished. Or just poking and prodding him. Maybe she’d get lucky and find out he was ticklish. Her little brother was ticklish. It was possible for boys to be ticklish too, despite what her older brother said.

They were on shore now, moored to a little dock. Leif and the rest had gone into town, but Thorfinn had decided to stay behind— so of course she stayed back too. The fun was here, after all. 

“What are you doing?” He said after he’d snatched her hand as she tried to poke his face. Under her feet was a mess of undone knots which he’d just tied. 

“Nothing,” she smirked, wiggling her fingers in his grasp. 

“Not nothing, you’ve been messing with everything all day. Why?”

She frowned at his frown, wondering if this was having the opposite effect. “Hm, I dunno.”

“You don’t know?” He repeated, lowering his arm as he loosened his grasp on her. 

She turned, trying to leave when his hand suddenly tightened on hers once more, pulling her back. “Where’re you going? You undid these, fix it.”

Gudrid pursed her lips at the mess of tangled ropes that he’d been trying to put right. “Nah.”

She looked up at his face and he wasn’t frowning anymore. But incredulous wasn’t a smile, now was it?

“You’re acting… weird,” he said, folding his arms as he tilted his head at her. 

“Am I?” She smirked, letting him know that she knew exactly what she was doing. Which she thought he was beginning to get. He raised his eyebrows, scoffing at her. Then he turned to redo the knots. 

_ That’s okay.  _ She turned away, taking a couple steps away with her hands clasped behind her back, watching him from the side.  _ I’ll just undo them again when he’s done. _

She was quiet as he finished, inching closer until he tied the last one back to the mooring post. His back was turned to her as she stood on the sand, so she thought he hadn’t noticed her. That was her first mistake. 

“Alright then,” he said, standing from where he knelt and beginning to walk away. 

Gudrid went to reach for the rope, laughing to herself— then was beyond surprised when she found herself in the air, being thrown over his shoulder unceremoniously. 

“Hey!” She squawked, kicking her legs and pounding her fists on his back. “Put me down!”

“Sure,” he replied, his voice casual. “Somewhere where you’ll be less annoying.”

“I’m utterly charming and you know it!” She shot back, still trying to free herself. He just walked forward, seemingly not even noticing her struggles. 

“That’ll work,” and Gudrid tried to twist to see where he was taking her. She couldn’t see, but she knew that was the direction of the surf. 

_ No… _

She tried to struggle harder, pulling on his hood. “You wouldn’t dare! Oi! Thorfinn! Don’t you dare do it!”

“Do what?” He said, and she could swear she heard a smirk in his voice.  _ That’s not the kind of smile I want!  _ His hands were on her now, pulling her free. “This?”

She tried to grab onto him at the last moment, but he still dumped her from his arms. After a splash, the next thing she knew she was sitting in the surf, every bit of her drenched. 

“Thorfinn, you jerk!” She shouted, and he just smiled slyly. 

“Yep, that’s better.”

She growled, giving him the meanest glare she could muster. His face remained unchanged from his amusement.  _ Oh, well I guess kinda success? _

“Alright, fine. I’m sorry,” she held her hands up in surrender. “The least you could do is help me up,” she said, reaching her hand out to him. 

He huffed out a breath. “Oh, alright,” he said, stepping towards her in the shallow water. 

As he grasped her hand, she yanked on him hard while kicking his foot from underneath him— just to make sure she could  _ actually  _ make him fall, considering his reflexes. And fall he did… right on top of her in the salty water. She sputtered at the water in her face and looked up to see him trying to disentangle himself from her, that smile still on his face even as his hair dripped down his face. Her heart thumped in her chest, gaping up at him as he pulled himself off of her— far too quickly… Despite the playful annoyance she felt at him, she had half a thought to just grab him and keep him there, way too close to her face…

“Should’ve seen that coming,” Thorfinn muttered, sitting himself back from her in the water, smiling a cool smile now. 

Gudrid pulled herself up from the water, pushing the wet hair from her eyes as she laughed. 

"Hey, you started it!" She cried, splashing a palmful of water at his face. 

“Oh, really?” He said, shielding his face with his hands as his smile broke into a small laugh. Despite the cold water, she felt warm.  _ A quiet chuckle ain’t gonna cut it, mister!  _ So she kept splashing him until the both of them were laughing so hard their bellies ached, she was sure. 

When he'd had enough of water in his face, he grabbed her about the waist, and for a moment she thought he was going to pick her up again. Then his fingers dug into her sides, tickling her.  _ Wait- what?! _ Shocked, she burst out in laughter all over again. She shoved at his hands, but he wouldn’t let go. He laughed with her, tickling her as she thrashed in the water, trying to escape, but no matter how much she squirmed, his hold on her was too strong. He kept pulling her back, trapping her again and again as she flailed. She was sure they looked beyond ridiculous, but she could care less. 

“No no, stop-! Ah!” She shrieked between gasping laughter, whacking at him. “Thorfinn-! You ass! Stop it! Stop it! Ahh!”

He laughed again, then his hands stilled and he released her. Immediately, she scrambled away from him, holding her hands up, ready to swat at him if he attempted a second attack. He didn’t, instead he let himself fall on his back in the sand, laughing as the surf lapped over him. 

“What’re you doing, huh?” Thorfinn sighed through his breathless chuckles. 

“What do you mean?”

He looked up at her, his laughter now calming into a light smile. “I dunno… I dunno what I mean. It just…” He let out a soft breath, shutting his eyes as he relaxed into the water. “It feels good being here.” 

She wasn’t sure what he meant either, but her eyes were beginning to sting just a bit, almost as if her heart could understand better than her mind. She didn’t know, she didn’t have any answers. But he was happy. He was genuinely happy, giving her more smiles than she could’ve ever wished for. She felt her own face melt into the warm joy as well. 

She waded to him on impulse, kneeling beside him. He looked serene… at peace. Her heart ached, feeling such relief and happiness fill her to the brim. Without hesitation, she lay down, resting her head on his chest as she wrapped her arms around him. Before she could stress about being too forward again, she felt his arms encircle her, holding her tight against him. She sighed, listening to his heartbeat. 

“What’re you doing?” He murmured, quieter now. It felt more like a repeat from his earlier question, not a comment on her embrace. “What’re you doing to me?”

“I don’t know...” she trailed off, unsure of what to make of his question, but she felt a rush of calm wash over her as the waves lapped gently against them. “But it’s because I…”

She didn’t dare speak another word, for fear of what would come tumbling out. His breath was warm against her hair as his arms tightened around her. 

“Thanks,” he whispered. “Thank you, Gudrid.”

After that, she was grateful they were already soaked. What were a few tears when they were washed away in the sea? She squeezed him tight, burying her face in his chest. 

_ I love you,  _ she smiled, not even surprised by the sudden thought in her mind. It rang through her and she knew that it was true… It thrummed through her so fervently, she was afraid for a moment that he would actually hear it. _ I love you! _

She lifted her head from his chest to see his face. His eyes were shut, his wet hair caked in sand as the sun shone against his face. He looked calm, peaceful. He looked like he hadn’t felt joy in his entire life and was just now feeling it for the first time. 

She smiled wider, letting her face rest against his chest once more, still watching him with those happy tears on her cheeks. 

_ I love you so much, Thorfinn. I truly do.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, this chapter was a total surprise to me as I was writing it. I had none of this planned, they just did what they wanted, and I was absolutely delighted! (Also Gudrid made me think so much of the goose from the Untitled Goose Game in this chapter, and that made me laugh so hard)
> 
> Thanks for reading and thank you so much for commenting! I love reading those so much, it really makes all this worth it! (Question: would you guys prefer that I respond to your comments immediately or do you mind that I wait until I post my next chapter?)
> 
> Stay safe, everyone!!


	18. Look Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 arts linked at the bottom!

Thorfinn didn’t know how he’d gotten wrapped up in this, but he was probably thinking that along with the rest of the crew. Of course, it all came back to Gudrid, that crazy mess of energy. She’d gotten the sailors all in such an excitement that they were singing and dancing, taking turns with the girl in the torchlight. Someone had even brought out a flute to accompany the music. It was about as merry as a gathering could be. 

Thorfinn stayed seated, but reluctantly clapped along as Gudrid danced with Mord, the others stomping around together. He found himself watching her face, seeing her laugh and blush as he listened to her sing. Chantey songs for dancing were very different than melancholic songs like she’d sung before, but she still sounded lovely singing something like this too. 

After a while, Grudrid stopped right in front of him, as he figured she would. He braced an elbow against his knee and leaned his chin in his palm, giving her a bemused look. 

“I don’t dance,” he said as her mouth opened. 

She pouted, “I didn’t even ask you yet!”

“Still no,” he scoffed. “No way.”

“Oh c’mon!” She cried, pulling on his arm. “For me?”

“No.”

“Thorfinn!”

“It’s not gonna happen.”

_ It happened. _

He wasn’t sure how she did it, but it seemed like suddenly he was up with the rest of them, Gudrid’s hands wrapped around his as she led him around the deck of the ship. 

“I don’t know how to do this!” Thorfinn insisted as she pulled him in a circle, never releasing his hands.

“That doesn’t matter,” she smiled, skipping her feet. “It’s all about having fun!”

“Yeah, loosen up!” Leif laughed. “Dancing’s normal!”

_ Yeah sure,  _ he thought, but didn’t resist. Gudrid was smiling so happily, and her hands were soft in his, and this whole night he felt somehow lighter than he had before. She pulled him and he followed willingly, finding himself smiling with her. 

_ There’s something different about you,  _ he thought he could say to her.  _ Something strange. Something beautiful. Something happy. I can’t quite understand it.  _

She laughed, pulling him closer as they turned about to the sound of the flute. She was singing again, her voice breathless as she danced and laughed at the same time. 

He smiled at her, feeling that warmth inside. _ I wonder… am I allowed to feel this? _ It was a strange thought, and he wasn’t sure who it would be, allowing him or not. Maybe himself? Maybe something else. But he knew that moving on from his old life was something like this. It was gentle and kind. It was dancing, apparently. It was feeling inside himself this warmth and joy. 

It was Gudrid smiling at him like he was worth smiling at. 

His hands tightened around hers and he changed the course of their feet, spinning her around like she had to him a bit ago. She blinked, then laughed, skipping into it. It spun her away, then pulled her back close. She pulled against his hands, drawing closer than necessary. For a moment he thought she was going to kiss him again, that same jolt running though him at the mere thought. She didn’t, instead she leaned her forehead against his, her eyes shut. He let out a breath as his feet stopped moving, grasping her hands tighter as his chest warmed. 

“If I had any say in it,” Gudrid whispered, her voice barely audible as the upbeat singing and dancing took place around them. “I’d stay with you forever.”

_ Maybe I can forget my life… Maybe I can forget it all, dancing with her…  _ The thought flew through his mind as he watched her, his breath catching in his throat. 

_ Stay with me,  _ he thought, feeling the words on the tip of his tongue.  _ Stay with me in Iceland.  _ He swallowed, leaning into her further. “Maybe you can.”

She blinked, staring at him incredulously, but he meant it. It had been on his mind for weeks now. He grasped her hands tighter, feeling himself tilt his face towards her without thinking, as if he was being drawn to her. "Come with me to Iceland," he muttered, growing closer. 

Her eyes widened a bit, but a warm smile filled her face, touching his heart. She leaned in with him, her hands clasped as tight as they could to his. He shuddered at her breath on his lips, and it was then that he realized resolutely that he  _ wanted _ her with him. He wanted to be with her forever, as she'd said. He wanted to forget his life with her. And dammit, he  _ really  _ wanted to kiss her again. He felt his eyes close as hers did, pulling her closer as his hands clutched hers.

Just as his lips barely brushed hers, a shout from one of the sailors broke the trance that seemed to have made the rest of the world disappear. He looked up, feeling the sudden foreboding in the air. 

“Something’s happening on shore!” The sailor announced from the edge of the ship, effectively ceasing all merrymaking. 

Thorfinn glanced at her, and their still-clasped hands before reluctantly releasing her and following the others to the rail. 

A chill ran through him at the sight, his stomach churning like he was going to be sick. 

_ Forget this, huh?  _ He found himself thinking.  _ Of course it's not that easy... _

There were plumes of smoke from the land, glowing visibly with orange light from just beyond the hill. He felt his hands clench white-knuckled against the rail, staring hard into the dark as his body felt as stiff as a board. The others were quiet too, a complete difference from laughter and music from moments before. 

"We can't moor here," Leif muttered, a cold knowing sinking into Thorfinn's belly at the words. "Row backwards, it would be best not to be seen."

He continued to stare, knowing exactly what was happening just past the hill. They were close enough now that distant sounds of cries and wails emitted through the night, and he felt cold all over. Not long ago, he’d been one who raided, not one to run from raids… It was strange to feel a semblance of fear of it. Not a fear for himself, but what if they were seen. What if they were boarded? Not a single man on Leif's ship was a warrior aside from Thorfinn himself. He knew exactly what would happen… the old would be slain— Leif would be killed... Leif, who had cared enough to search for him for over a decade, would be killed. His hair was sparse now, his face lined. He’d cried as he embraced Thorfinn and begged him to return— for the old man's sake, for his family's sake, and for the sake of his father. Thorfinn couldn't fathom the thought of him being killed before Thorfinn allowed him to fulfill that oath… or at all. 

What the pirates would do next was either kill the younger men, or sell them all as slaves, and with the women, they would… Gudrid would be…

He tore his eyes away from the shore, looking at her as she stood beside him. Her hand had grasped his wrist as she stared with fear into the fire glow, all signs of merriment gone from her face.

He didn't want to think about what would happen to her… should those raiders get their hands on her…

Screams continued in the distance, children crying, women begging for help. They could hear it all. It tore at Thorfinn in a way it never had before… or perhaps it had, and he’d simply locked the discomfort away behind his emptiness. It was awful. It was like blades scraping stone, grinding and screeching in his mind. How had he not heard it before?

Gudrid's hand had moved, now holding his once more. He squeezed it, considering again those feelings of when he thought she would be killed back then in the woods, thinking she would be taken from him, her life slipping away. It would've happened so easily, merely an instant later and her life would be stolen, gone from the world forever. 

After everything they’d been through, and how she’d etched away at him until he actually wanted her in his life— he couldn’t fathom being parted from her in such a way. 

He would’ve denied it weeks ago, but he cared for her in ways he couldn’t entirely comprehend. It was warmth stirring within him at her touch, her smile, her glee as she danced with him around the ship’s deck; her everything. He had no words, nothing but the ability to gently squeeze her hand as she clung to him.

The screams broke into his mind once more, and his thoughts turned to the wretchedness he  _ knew  _ they were going through right now. There must've been people who cared about each other, as he cared for Gudrid, for Leif, and for his family. 

_ Surely, someone cares about you, _ he didn’t know where those words came from, but he felt them hit him like the weight of a millstone. It was heavy on his chest, pressing down on him so intensely, he thought maybe the weight of it would break the wood beneath his feet. 

_ Will you standby and watch?  _ A voice said in his mind, for a moment it sounded like his father.  _ Will you turn away and forget?  _ He trembled, wanting to hide, wishing to cover his face from this raw shame that suddenly threatened to bury him. He glanced at the girl beside him, imagining again her body bloody and broken on the ground, her life far beyond his ability to save. 

_ What’s the difference between her and them?  _ He swallowed, his skin crawling.  _ You people care about each other as I care about her… _

_ I can’t forget… I can’t forget this life... _

"I have to go," he murmured suddenly, his mind barely processing that he was moving. He pulled his hand from Gudrid's soft warmth.

"What?" She asked, alarm in her tone. 

He grasped the edge of the ship. They were still fairly close to shore. In the lights from the torches, he could see the sand below the waves. Without hesitation, he leapt into the surf, the water coming up to his waist. 

"Thorfinn!" Gudrid and Leif called out at the same time. 

He looked up to their faces as they stood at the rail. 

"I’m going to help them," he said curtly, feeling no other words nor explanations within him aside from the strong urge to just  _ go.  _

"That's great and all, but you're just one person!" Gudrid cried, waving her arms around.

"We can skirt around the shore and help any who've escaped. It's too dangerous to go into the village as it is now, Thorfinn," Leif said sternly, then he reached a hand out to him. "C- come back onto the ship. We can help. We will, just please-"

“I’ll be fine,” he said, looking up at him. There was a desperation in Leif’s face which matched his voice. Thorfinn’s face softened a bit, looking up at the man. “I’ll come back.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned away again, wading towards the shore. 

A splash in the water made him blink. Turning, he saw Gudrid now in the water, wading after him. “I’m coming too!”

“Gudrid! Get back here!” Leif shouted at her, looking like he’d tried to grab her before she jumped in after him. She ignored him. 

“You are not,” he said resolutely, continuing to walk toward the shore. After all, the reason he was doing this was much because of her. The last time she’d been anywhere near a pirate, she’d nearly been killed… and he’d had to kill the scoundrel, (which wasn't something she could stomach either…) What did she expect to see, trying to follow him to a proper battle? “It’s better if I’m on my own.”

“But I can help!”

He stopped his steps, then turned towards her with a menacing glare. He really didn’t have much of a knack for reading people, not like Askeladd had. Not at all… but… after the time they’d spent together, he figured he knew Gudrid as well as he’d know anyone. And he knew her stubbornness acutely. She’d been told what to do and what not to do her whole life, and she greatly despised it. It was always easier to give in and let her have what she wanted. But… he just couldn’t this time. Not this time. 

“No,” he said in a low voice. “You can’t.”

She blinked, taken aback for a moment, and he could understand that. Since growing closer as they had, he felt more at ease with her… more open. There was no need to be harsh with her anymore. He accepted her friendship now, and her little affections too. Sometimes she just held his hand for no particular reason other than just to hold it. And he found himself participating in such affections, absentmindedly surveying her smooth hands, finding every feature that laid ingrained in her skin. His mind flashed to that afternoon they’d laid together in the waves, his hand moving on its own as he combed his fingers through her dark hair. That feeling in his chest was beyond moving, warm even in the cold. It was always there, when they’d danced, when they spoke, that night when she’d kissed him…  _ Hell, I even tried to kiss her tonight…  _

There was this nigh-supernatural pull he felt gravitate them towards each other, and he wanted her by his side… but it didn't change what kind of danger she would be in, should he let her follow him into those flames.

Her face was dark, but illuminated by the torchlight enough that he could see her stubbornness there, her anger rising. He let out a sigh, then waded to her, grasping her shoulders. 

“I- don’t want you to... see me…” he said slowly, looking down. “...in a battle…”

He grasped tighter to her, glancing up at her face tentatively. “...I wouldn’t be able to keep my promise…”

The anger in her face softened as she tilted her head, leaning in with a concerned look. “I know you want to help, and that’s a really good thing, and I’m glad you do… But you’re just one person, Thorfinn. You don’t have to do this, especially alone.”

He looked up at her, caught in her gaze, and the moment felt longer than it should’ve been— he felt almost like he couldn’t move or even breathe. He trembled a bit before letting out a sigh. 

“I feel like I do…” he muttered, his voice quiet. “Like this is a way to… make up for some of it...”

Gudrid bit her lip, looking like she would argue further, but he shook his head, grasping tighter to her shoulders. “I- I care about you…” he said softly. “I can’t stop thinking about when that guy tried to kill you… and how I felt when I thought you were gonna die.”

She blinked at him, her eyes wide as she listened. 

Thorfinn frowned deeper, feeling the weight on him again. “There’s people there who care about each other like that, right? So I thought… for once, I should do something right…”

She looked down now, hands clasped against her chest… almost like she was praying. After a moment stretched on, she held her hand out to him, seeking his touch. Without hesitation, he grasped her hand in his. “I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

Gudrid bit her lip, looking at him with fear— not of him this time, but for him. It was a strange and comforting distinction. Just as he thought she was going to argue further, she sighed. A blush swept across her face in the dark, but she still reached out her free hand to the back of his neck, her fingers threading through his hair. Her face was close, and he felt that jolt through him once more. 

“You better be,” she muttered, her voice low. 

Before he could respond, she pulled him into her, pressing her lips to his for a second time. His surprise was momentary as she pressed him close, tugging lightly at his hair. He really had no idea what he was doing, but he didn’t care. All he knew was that Gudrid was kissing him, and this time they both wanted that. He gripped her hand tighter, feeling that warmth grow in his chest, stealing his breath away. His free hand came up, grasping at her waist as he pulled her closer. He moved his lips with hers, mirroring her kiss.

It was only seconds longer than their last kiss, but there was such a longing in him when she pulled away— desiring to pull her close and do it again. 

“Be careful, okay?” She muttered, pressing her forehead against his. He stared at her, then nodded mutely, his hand still gripping her waist. 

Before she could pull away, he wrapped his arm tighter around her, pulling her into a firm embrace. He buried his face in her neck, his hand clutching her head against him. 

“I will, Gudrid.”

She hugged him tight, gladly accepting his affection. He wasn’t sure if it was just him, but the desperation in her kiss, and in her hold on him now told him she felt the same thing he did. It was a sinking, cold feeling that this was not just a brief parting, but a goodbye. He couldn’t even begin to say why he felt that way, but that impression refused to leave his mind. With that unease, he had half a mind to stay with her, to get back into Leif’s ship and sail away from all of this. He thought of a life with her, far beyond flames and war. Somewhere warm, somewhere safe. 

_ But… there’s something telling me to go... _

After a minute or two, he pulled away, hand grasping hers once more almost of its own accord. She looked down, bringing her other hand to hold his tighter. He half-thought she would refuse to let him go in the end. 

“Leif, sail to the other side of that cape and wait for me there- and stay out of sight,” he called to the man on the ship. 

“Y- yeah,” Leif got out.

Looking back to the girl, he let out a sigh. He squeezed her hand gently, leaning his head to the side to see her down-turned face. “I won’t make you wait long.”

She hummed, gripping him tighter. The thought that he truly didn’t deserve her nor her affection hit him hard through the whole exchange. It was one of the first times he’d ever thought such a thing. He released a sigh, hearing the cries from the village in the near distance, and his stomach churned once again. 

With one last squeeze, he pulled his hand from hers, her fingers sliding against his skin until he was too far to feel her anymore. 

He waded through the water, listening to hear if she was following, but he heard nothing. When he got to the shore, he finally looked back. In the shadows, he could vaguely see her silhouette standing in the waves where he’d left her, watching him. 

_ I’m coming back, I’m coming back,  _ he assured himself, taking in the sight of her and Leif’s boat one last time before turning towards the flames. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks! Please don't forget to comment! (and please please don't stop reading!! I promise this isn't the end!)
> 
> Art:  
> First: https://twitter.com/kate_7h/status/1259204603779809280?s=20  
> Second: https://twitter.com/kate_7h/status/1259205028910206976?s=20


	19. Waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope there are still people reading this... it hasn’t been getting very much feedback and I am hoping y’all are still reading.. it gets better, I promise!

Thorfinn didn’t come back that day... or the day after… or the day after that… Gudrid watched and watched, waiting out the days as she kept looking towards the edge of the town, looking for him, but he never returned. 

It had already been a week.

The town had been ravaged, the people halved, but the vikings thankfully weren’t trying to stay at that place. Just hit it and move on. Maybe they thought that was more sustainable, leave enough left to rebuild so they can steal from the town again.

_ Horrible…  _

Gudrid had never seen so much death and violence before, but she’d done her best to help. All the while, she scanned the faces of the dead, waiting until the next face was one she recognized… It never happened. 

A couple of the villagers remembered him, a strange boy no one knew fighting the vikings. 

“He saved my life,” one of the women said as she knelt beside her injured husband. “He saved us both. Do you know him?”

Gudrid nodded, feeling her stomach churn. “Did you see where he went after that?”

“No, I’m sorry,” she replied. “After that, I didn’t see him again. There was so much chaos.”

He’d just… vanished. If he’d died, his body should’ve been among the villagers, right? Why would pirates carry someone off if they’d killed him? 

_ He’s gotta be alive. He just  _ has  _ to be!  _

The crew was working on helping the people as much as they could. They made food and gave supplies to them, though they had nothing to trade for it. Gudrid wanted to help, but she was practically useless at cooking, or helping fix a lot of things. She just couldn’t figure out how to do things right. After failing at helping a few of the women sew new clothes from old blankets, she’d given up. In her frustration, she tore out that old sail she and Thorfinn had been tasked with fixing. Still sewing, but at least it didn’t have sleeves…

All the while, she situated herself to watch the ridge, scanning the paths for any sort of movement. 

_ He said he’d come back… so where is he? _

Instead of falling into that rabbit hole again, she busied herself with the sail. She dug the needle in and out, over and over, concentrating on the evenness of the stitch. 

_ “Just try to make your stitch straight across the tear.”  _

Her hand paused, looking down at the tattered material… at the lines of stitches that were marginally neater than her own. She bit her lip, looking up at the hill once more. 

_ A whole week… _

Feeling her eyes begin to sting, she bowed herself in the sail, stitching furiously, paying no mind to any sort of neatness whatsoever. 

“Gudrid,” Leif’s voice said from behind her. She gritted her teeth, looking at the sail fiercely. She knew what he was going to say. She just knew it. It was spring now, and they’d been in this place for over a week. She  _ knew _ what came next. 

“No,” she said sternly, not sparing a glance at the man. 

“You didn’t even let me speak-“

“No,” she said again, hands moving quickly through the sewing. “We  _ can’t  _ leave yet. We just  _ can’t.” _

Leif didn’t say anything, but she heard his footsteps on the grass until she felt him kneel beside her. He placed a hand against her shoulder. 

“If there’s anyone who understands how you feel right now, it’d be me, I can promise you that.”

She heard a tremble in his voice, and finally she looked up at him. The wrinkles in his face were deeper, lining the grief prominently. 

_ After all, Leif had searched for Thorfinn for eleven years straight… _

Just like that, her eyes filled with tears. 

“H- he should’ve been back by now, right Leif?” She wept, looking down at the blurry sail. “He said he’d come back- he p- promised!”

Leif sat beside her, pulling the sail from her hands as she cried. 

“He’s not dead, Leif. He’s not, b- because we would’ve found his-! Leif, he’s not dead!” She slammed her fists against her knees, her teeth gritted together. 

“No, I think you’re right,” Leif said with a shudder. “If we didn’t find him in the aftermath, then he’s probably still alive.”

Gudrid stared at him, her fists shaking as she gripped her knees.

“He’s likely been sold,” Leif’s voice cracked, pressing a hand to his eyes. “Dear God, he’s been sold again…”

Her tears seemed to turn to ice on her face. It wasn’t something she’d thought about. She’d only thought about him being alive or dead…  _ Was he taken to be a slave? _ Hopelessness washed over her, knowing how vast the trade of humans went. She’d met a slave at one of the great meetings in Greenland. He’d been there forever, taken from his home in Finland as a child. He was older than her father…

She hugged her arms around herself, aching in a way she’d never felt before. “Is this how it felt for you? Searching for him?”

Leif let out a shuddering breath. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

She covered her eyes, grief so heavy she could barely hold it. 

_ How’re we ever going to find you, Thorfinn? _

She felt Leif put an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into him, sobbing for the first time since he’d left. 

“He so stupid!” She cried, her voice muffled. “He was supposed to come back! Why’d he have to go in the first place!”

“I don’t know,” Leif was quiet as he patted her back. “But it seemed like he was trying to right the wrongs he’d done. Don’t hate him too much for it.”

“I don’t,” Gudrid choked out. “I don’t hate him at all. I- I-“

Leif nodded, leaning against her head. “I know. I know.”

They sat like that for a long time, it seemed. Leif still spoke to her, trying to calm her as she wept, but she could hear tears of his own making his voice swollen as well. It was all too much. It hurt, feeling like together they were mourning his death. 

_ He’s not dead,  _ she thought, clinging to that little bit of hope.  _ We’ll find you, Thorfinn. _

After she’d calmed down, Leif stood. 

“We’ll set sail in an hour,” Leif said quietly. “Be ready, alright?”

Gudrid stared at the ground, looking at the stitches on the sail. “Okay.”

“Actually, I- uh, I did find something,” Leif said before turning away. He reached into his bag briefly. “When I was helping some of the locals, I grabbed this from a pile of tools.” 

Gudrid looked up to see him holding a knife out to her, hilt first. She stared at it for a moment before she realized what it was. 

_ Thorfinn’s knife… _

“I didn't know if you’d want to keep it, or if you’d rather not, but I figured I’d let you have the choice,” Leif said with a sad frown on his face. “You two got to be… pretty close, after all.”

Her first instinct was to throw it in the sea. Her second was to cling to it, clinging to him in any physical way she could. She swallowed, taking the knife from his hand. 

“Yeah, we did…” she sniffed, staring at the knife in her hands. It was dirty, splotches of dried blood and debris clung to the metal.  _ I wonder… how many people has he killed with this thing?  _

Etched roughly into the blade near the hilt, she could read the runes for ‘warrior,’ written twice in the steel. He’d probably done that himself. She saw her reflection in the steel between the splatters and dirt. A drop fell from her eyes, obscuring the view and muddying the surface. 

“Thanks, Leif…”

Leif grasped her shoulder gently, then turned back to the docks, likely to prepare for their final voyage back to Greenland.

She watched the man walk away before turning her eyes back to the blade. She touched her fingers to the runes, lips trembling. Their journey flashed before her eyes in that moment, hers and Thorfinn's— from when she met him that first night, his face bruised and covered in scrapes as he stared blankly at her. The first time he spoke to her. Saving each other’s lives. That night in the woods. Watching him change before her very eyes. 

She remembered him opening up to her genuinely, speaking out his thoughts and concerns. She remembered hearing his laugh for the first time and feeling like she would melt. Holding him going from a rare privilege to a common occurrence. She remembered the feeling inside her when he actually kissed her back as they unknowingly said their goodbyes. 

The feeling of his fingers slipping from hers lingered on her skin, and she thought that letting him go that night would always be her biggest regret. 

_ “I’ll be back soon,"  _ his voice cut into her thoughts, stunning her again. _ "I promise.” _

She bowed forward, curling in on herself as her fingers grasped the blade tight, her tears silent now.

“Thorfinn…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this, please please leave a comment! It’s hard to keep a fanfic going when you’re not sure very many care...
> 
> Thank you very much for reading!


	20. His Second Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being separated from Gudrid and Leif’s crew, Thorfinn finds himself sold into slavery. He ends up working on a farm where he makes a new friend...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here’s where this canon divergent returns to canon! Welcome back! And let’s welcome Einar to the cast!
> 
> Art: look! I drew Einar!! https://twitter.com/kate_7h/status/1270329956023721985?s=21

It was surprising how fast time went when the days didn’t seem to matter much anymore. He couldn’t have even guessed at how many days —or months— it had been since he’d parted with Leif and his crew… with Gudrid. It all seemed far away now, distant. Almost like none of it had even happened. Just a little burst of sunshine before the fog rolled in again. 

Heading into that burning village, he was sure he’d be able to take down those warriors without any trouble at all, help those people. Few had ever bested him before… not an average warrior, that is. Maybe he’d been distracted, maybe he’d been unpracticed… regardless, once he was hit on the head from behind, he remembered nothing before he woke up chained in the belly of a ship. After that, it was a blur of exchanging masters and abuse and so much malice and cruelty, he wondered if he’d ever experienced such a thing with Askeladd… He knew he hadn't, and he came to understand very quickly how different life was as a free man than as a slave…

And now he worked for Ketil, a master who seemingly wanted to appear kind. Now his lot in life was to clear land to create more wheat fields for his master.

He didn’t care though. It was hard to bring himself to care about anything anymore… Everything within him just felt empty, hollow. The weight of that emptiness he'd felt when Askeladd had slipped through his fingers returned with a vengeance— the ease he'd felt on Leif's ship had been stripped from him along with his freedom… once that sunshine girl was nowhere near him to lift him from the depths again…

He truly hadn't seen how much she'd carried him until he fell back down to the real world again.

...

Though time seemed fluid, it felt agonizingly long to cut down a single tree. It hurt to do day after day, his joints aching and his muscles weakening, but he didn't care. He was used to pain. It didn’t matter. Nothing before mattered at all. What he felt didn’t matter. Who he’d met didn’t matter. His everything now was to clear the land below his feet. 

The memory of her warmth slowed his swing, making him miss the notch he’d already made in the trunk. He just sighed, righting the axe and swinging again.  _ She’s long gone now…  _ It was better for her anyway… to not have someone like him hanging around her… He put her from his mind and swung again, letting the blade dig into the pulverized trunk.

“Thorfinn!”

His name wasn’t something he heard often anymore, so it gave him pause. 

_ The master… _

He stopped and lifted the axe over his shoulder, following the call like an obedient dog.

After making his way through the brush of the forest, he came to the road where Ketil sat atop his horse. Standing beside him was a man he didn’t recognize. He recognized most on the farm, instinctively logging people as what role they played and how to treat them in exchange for the least amount of effort or trouble. Ketil required very little. He wondered if this man would be the same. 

Ketil dismounted as Thorfinn approached. He let his eyes fall to his feet as he stood before them, feeling heavy. 

“Einar. Thorfinn,” Ketil said, gestured to the new man, then to Thorfinn. “Starting today, you two will be friends.”

_ Friends…? _

“Well, get along now. You’ll be working together on the same job.”

“Nice to meet you, Thorfinn,” Einar said awkwardly. 

Thorfinn sighed, looking at the ground. “...Hey.”

Einar asked a lot of questions. He was nothing but a string of conversation, it seemed. 

_ A lot like Gudrid, in that way…  _ As they walked through the woods, Thorfinn wondered absentmindedly why he ended up surrounded by those types of people in times when he most wanted silence.

But Einar seemed like an upright kind of person, wanting to work when he was ordered to take it easy and watch, feeling indignant at the farmhands when they slacked off. He was probably a good person, from what Thorfinn could tell. 

_ Usually good people dislike bad people,  _ Thorfinn thought, and was proven correct on the night Einar spoke to him about his past. 

“Why doesn’t he just shut up and take the farm?” Einar blurted out just as they settled in the small barn to sleep. It took a moment for Thorfinn to figure out who Einar was even talking about.  _ Right, the master’s son made another fuss today…  _ “What an obstinate fool.”

Einar took to those sorts of speeches enough that Thorfinn felt alright to just relax and ignore him, settling himself in the straw to sleep. That is… until Einar continued. 

“He thinks he knows war. He thinks being a warrior makes him cool,” Einar continued, his voice scathing and low. “Men who wage war are all beasts.”

Thorfinn glanced at him without turning, feeling his words burn in him. It was a similar feeling to that woman in the village they’d stopped in, throwing rotten food at him and calling him a murderer. It was Gudrid staring up at him in fear and thinking him cold. Einar didn’t even know Thorfinn and what he’d done, and yet he had this same effect on him. 

_ All warriors… are beasts…  _

Feeling that biting cold inside, he rolled away, closing his eyes tight against the feelings, willing that emptiness to rid him of it all. “Go to sleep. We have an early morning.”

Thorfinn didn’t know what possessed the man to tell him his life story. Maybe he was too angry. Maybe, deep down, he could sense what Thorfinn had been before. Maybe he could smell the blood on his hands…

“Long ago, soldiers came to my village twice,” Einar said, his voice distant as he spoke. “When I was a lad, the kind of England’s troops burned our village to the ground. My da fought, and he died…”

Thorfinn was quiet as he spoke, listening. 

“I don’t know why, but nothing can really make me accept what happened.” 

Thorfinn felt himself sink deeper into the straw. He knew that feeling well. He’d felt it for the better part of his whole life. He could see the arrows fly through the air, piercing his father where he stood, unarmed on that ship. He remembered that burning fire within as he screamed and screamed at Askeladd with all his might. He remembered hanging onto the rage like a lifeline, keeping it close and nurturing it within himself for years… because without that hatred, he was nothing. 

_...Without her, I'm nothing as well... _

So he’d just fallen back into this state, having nothing to live for and nothing to gain. Maybe it was all some kind of dream… one person holding his worth in her hands… it was unreal, unlikely… so easily broken. 

“The next to come were the Danes,” Einar continued, and his thoughts stopped cold. 

He didn’t have to listen to his story to know what the Danes would’ve done to his village... Einar's words only confirmed it. Thorfinn felt his stomach sink within him, feeling all the more empty and cold, hearing such loathing coming from the mouth of this  _ good  _ man he’d been ordered to be friends with. 

After a moment, Einar sighed roughly. “They’re beasts, just monsters in human clothing. Anyone who wishes to be one of them is a great fool.”

_ “Just tell me you don’t enjoy it.” _

He knew it had seemed off, that being her main concern at the time. Whether he’d enjoyed killing or not never changed the fact that that was what he’d chosen to be. Gudrid was wrong… it didn’t make a difference. It wouldn’t make a difference to Einar, whose village had been attacked and his family killed by such men. It hadn’t made a difference to the woman who’d called him a murderer. 

_ Gudrid was wrong… I’m nothing but a beast… _

“Right, Thorfinn? You asleep?” Einar suddenly turned his whole dark story into a question— he tended to ask questions as he tried to draw him into conversation. His voice was kinder now, more upbeat and friendly than the hardened anger from moments before. 

Thorfinn didn’t respond, staring at the far wall, feeling the chill in his chest, despite how warm the night air was. 

_ If you knew who I was, Einar… you’d hate me…  _

He wondered if that was something he cared about, what Einar thought of him. He wondered if he should be wary to keep his past to himself. 

In the end, it wasn’t really in his power to keep, after the incident with Olmar and the guests. After Snake had swung his sword with such bloodlust, Thorfinn's instincts had overridden his emptiness. The thoughts from such a reaction were confusing, so he put the them away, unsure of what to do with them.

However, dodging as he had proved to Einar what kind of person he'd been— what he'd done. Such conclusions would've been hard to hide, whether he had actually tried to or not. And Einar wasn’t stupid… He didn't bring it up though, nor behave any differently as they were ushered away with Pater, Ketil's steward. 

Pater was kind, he had been since Thorfinn had arrived. He spoke softly no matter how harshly anyone spoke back to him. Thorfinn sat still on the crate he'd practically been forced onto as the man cleaned and spread ointment across his wounds. It wasn't something he had to do, he was just being kind, for no other reason than to be kind. He never really knew what to do with that...

Thorfinn didn't move as he tended to his wounds, not even noticing the sting much as his thoughts returned to those that refused to be entirely banished from his mind— of life and death, and whether he thought he didn't care if he died, his body still fought to cling to his own life. It was a strange feeling, wondering if he actually cared if he lived… having his body say something different than what his mind thought. He could see no future, no progression, and yet part of him seemed to still find merit to clinging on to life… 

_ No, it was instinct… training…  _ It must've been something like that. He truly didn't care what happened to him. He really didn't. It was simpler to say he didn't care about anything at all. 

But Einar hating him bothered him to some extent… and he couldn't physically bring himself to think he didn't care about Gudrid… He shut his eyes briefly, seeing her face in his mind, as he so often did...

He sighed, pushing his thoughts back to nothingness.  _ Why must my mind so often turn back to her? _ Feeling for her now was a vacuum that felt almost worse than the emptiness.  _ Forget her… _ but he never could. He closed his mind, feeling too weary to examine those thoughts any further. 

It was quiet between them as Thorfinn continued on a tree he hadn’t finished before. He wouldn’t think much of it, but there was a weight to the silence now. Einar usually filled it with his friendly drabble, but not now. He'd only spoken to him once when he'd reprimanded him for not thanking Pater for his kindness in giving him a new tunic. Thorfinn hesitated, expecting some kind of confrontation, based on what Einar had said the night before. Despite the emptiness he was feeling, he couldn't help but feel like his insides had sunk just a bit deeper, wondering if he was already losing another friend...

“Thorfinn, have you… ever been to war?”

Although he'd been expecting it, he still felt a bit colder at the words, knowing what they meant to the man. He stopped, glancing at Einar as the weariness weighed on him.  _ I'm just so tired…  _ Speaking the truth seemed like less effort than it was to come up with a lie. 

“Yes," he muttered as he continued to chop away at the trunk. 

Einar was quiet for a moment before he spoke with a voice so hard, Thorfinn was almost surprised he wasn't shouting.

"Did you kill?"

He didn't look at him; he couldn't. He felt some of that shame he'd felt when Gudrid had been angry with him in this exact manner— this righteous anger of righteous people… but mostly he was just exhausted. He felt too empty to care anymore. If Einar hated him from now on… then he'd just have to live with it.

"...Yes," he answered truthfully.

Einar continued his interrogation as Thorfinn kept swinging his axe, pulverizing the trunk of the tree with each hit. 

"How many? Five…? No, ten…?" Einar spoke, his voice sounding hard still, but almost frantic as if he couldn't quite believe Thorfinn capable of such things. 

_ As if putting a number to it changes anything… _

"Why would you ask that?" Thorfinn sighed, glancing at him finally. He watched his face for a moment, swinging another hit blindly, hitting the tree with a loud chop. "I thought you hated war."

Einar said nothing to that, just continued to stare at him, a heavy frown on his face. Thorfinn turned away as the tree began to fall. "Timber," he called quietly, turing his back on Einar before speaking again.

"I don't remember a number," he spoke quietly. "I killed many men." He didn't know why he felt the need to tell his story to Einar. Maybe because if he did, then the man wouldn't feel obligated to call him 'friend’ anymore. 

…

"I was at war from the time I was five or six. I took part in the Danish invasion of England," he continued, turning again to face Einar, far too tired and empty to consider the amorphous shame he felt within. "I was a warrior. Do you despise me, Einar?”

He didn’t get a response, but then again, he wasn’t really expecting one. The answer was probably yes, so he let that nothingness settle within him and moved on to the next tree. There was nothing to do but keep on cutting the trees. Whether Einar could accept all this or not, it didn't change anything. Thorfinn sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, then began again.

_ I suppose that's that then... _

Einar didn't speak to him for the rest of the day, and though the silence was familiar to him, a part of him regretted speaking the truth. It had made the days seem shorter, listening to Einar speak, rather than toiling the hours away with nothing but burying his thoughts day in and day out.  _ Perhaps we could clear different sections of the forest separately, if he prefers... _

Thorfinn simply continued his work quietly, feeling the sting of his wounds and the ache of his ear. He didn't care. Having a task was better than nothing, so he would complete his task. Whether or not they did it together made no difference.

_ It doesn't matter… it really doesn't… _   
  


* * *

Nightmares plagued him constantly. He never remembered what they were. He never remembered the words spoken— but he could feel a crawling under his skin after he woke from them, as if some kind of thorns had raked across his skin, leaving him open like a raw nerve, exposed and cold and aching. The night after Einar's interrogation that morning was no different, apparently. 

From what he'd been told by whomever saw him sleeping, he thrashed about sometimes, moaning and shouting until he woke. Leif and the rest on that ship had always been kind as they roused him, but he mostly recalled when Gudrid woke him. He remembered her soft hands as she brought him back to consciousness, and how she smiled with worry in her eyes. 

_ Perhaps I dream about her sometimes…  _ He didn't know… He pushed her away, knowing nothing made him feel more empty than her...

The dream he'd had couldn't have been about her though, it was monstrous and he knew it. Everything hurt him, everything was cold, sticking to him, clinging to him, dragging him down deeper and deeper. He gasped, trying desperately to escape, to survive… to get to someplace different...

When he came to, he felt hands on him, shaking him awake. For half a moment he thought it really was Gudrid or Leif waking him as he dreamed on the boat… but then he was surrounded by straw and he looked up to see Einar instead.

"You were yelling in your sleep again," he said simply, face turned away as walked over to lie down in his spot again.

Thorfinn blinked, staring at the man.  _ Wasn't he angry? Doesn't he hate me?  _ People had only ever woken him from sleep out of kindness. Before Leif's ship, he only been mocked for his nightmares after the fact.  _ Was Einar being kind?  _

After a moment of quiet, he spoke. "Einar, why do you wake me up every time I moan in my sleep?"

Einar sat up again, squinting at him. "Huh? What do you mean? It's because you…"

He trailed off, and Thorfinn just stared at him, not sure of what he was trying to say. His actions and his words didn't make sense, so he really had no clue what he wanted to say. A few seconds passed, and Thorfinn watched as Einar's face softened, then he turned away, bracing his hands against his knees. 

"Because you and I… are friends," Einar said resolutely, as if he were stating a fact.

Thorfinn blinked again.  _ What?  _ Einar had spent the day hating him and everything he was… Was he lying? No… it didn't seem like a falsity… Had he changed his mind? But he'd seemed so convicted in what he believed, and what he believed was that Thorfinn, a warrior, was a monster.  _ What changed? _

"What the hell?" He muttered, his confusion bubbling out. 

Einar bristled, squawking at him. "Huh?! What is  _ that  _ reaction for?! We  _ are  _ friends, aren't we?!"

Thorfinn gaped at him, feeling all the more confused. "Uh- well… it didn't seem like an answer to my question…"

"Look, just forget it! You could just say 'thanks' or something!"

"Y- yeah…" 

He remembered the first time Gudrid had claimed that with him as well. He still didn't quite understand… for what reason were these two very good people trying to be his friend, to overlook his bloodstained past actually  _ try  _ to make connections to him… It made no sense.

He looked at Einar, feeling something similar to what Gudrid made him feel— warmed… still.  _ Kindness. _ It wasn't entirely the same, it felt unique, different. A new kind of important connection he didn't know entirely how to understand. 

_ We're friends... _

Just like that, he was given another chance.

"Thank you, Einar," he said quietly.

"Too late!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please always leave a comment! I gotta know you guys are still here! Thank you!


	21. After Two Years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long, I got a bit stuck.... Idk if I'm quite satisfied with it now, but I wanted to move on, so oh well.

Thorfinn had always thought that Arnheid was kind. She was a gentle person with a kind smile, and even though he hadn't spoken to her before Einar had come, he'd thought that of her. Every morning that they'd met at the well, she'd given him a happy greeting, to which he'd simply nodded to in response. 

He realized part of him resisted having anything to do with her because she was a kind woman, and she made him think of Gudrid… it made his empty heart ache, so he avoided speaking with her, or letting her any closer. That changed when Einar arrived on the farm and immediately took a liking to Arnheid. 

"Good morning," Arnheid said, her smile soft and bright as it often was.

Einar blushed, sputtering as he replied, and their brief, daily exchange continued. 

Thorfinn did his best to stay out of the way, as he did most mornings now. He looked on thoughtfully as Einar stuttered and laughed, although he was much more calm and coherent now than he'd been when he'd first met Arnheid.  _ He sure has taken a liking to her, _ he thought as he walked to the well. The two truly enjoyed each other's company, often losing track of time even though it was really only these brief morning meetings where they could talk like this. But he supposed it had been about two years since Einar had come, so it made sense they'd grown as close as they had.

He stopped, looking down at his hands as they dripped into the basin.  _ Two years…  _

A lot had changed in what felt like such a short time. He was an entirely new person, completely changed from what he'd been. Looking down in the well water, he caught his reflection, and for a moment he didn't recognize himself. Not only had he grown older, his hair longer, a beard on on his face, but he felt… fuller. He was no longer the empty man he had been. His soul felt like there was actually something of substance within. 

It wasn't like it had happened overnight, he'd been working towards this for a long time— really since Einar had come along and challenged him to progress, not to remain stagnant. And with Einar, all the rest of the friends he'd made here on Ketil's farm did the same.

_ "Just keep learning as you do it, one thing after another. Being empty means anything can fit inside you. If you want to be reborn, empty's the best way to be." _

He’d never forgotten the old master’s words, and he was sure he never would. Every day, he did something new, or asked to be taught, filling himself to the brim with better things, with worthwhile skills that would be useful to himself and others. Einar taught him to farm, Sverkel taught him to cook, he'd learned how to patch roofs, and build buildings, and care for himself, and many other things, and he was so grateful. He felt immense gratitude for all the people he'd found himself surrounded by. If he was slowly filling himself, gratitude seemed to be one of the best things to fill in the leftover spaces with.

Along with that newfound gratitude, he also had a deeper sense of shame within him, having figured out far too late his effect on the world. The lives he'd taken couldn't be given back, no matter how much he longed to be able to take back everything he'd done in the name of vengeance. No, there was nothing he could do but listen to those cursed and dreadful souls as they reviled him, as he deserved. There was nothing to do other than that, and live his life without violence for the rest of his days. That was his goal.

_ It's not good enough, but I don't know any other solution. _

He took a breath, splashing more water over his skin, cleaning away the sweat and straw dust. 

"Did you sleep badly again, Thorfinn?" Arnheid asked, and he looked up at his name. 

"Ah- it's alright. I'm used to it," he waved a hand at her worry.

"Oh," she frowned. "My mother always said drinking some warmed milk helps with sleeping troubles. If I can, I could try to bring some by tonight?”

Thorfinn blinked at her. “Ah, no, you don’t need to trouble yourself with me,” he muttered. “But thank you.”

_ I really don't deserve such kindness… _ and yet he found himself surrounded by it. Ever since leaving the life he'd built around Askeladd, time and time again he kept meeting people who wanted to care for him, and went out of their way to give him that kindness. It was mind boggling. 

Even though he knew it was different, Arnheid was her own person, of course. She was his friend… but she still made him think of that girl he’d known those years ago— being so kind and beautiful. 

He thought about Gudrid a lot, his mind often straying as he worked to that sweet girl who’d cared for him so kindly. Who’d gone out of her way for him constantly. 

He’d tried to put her from his mind before when nothingness threatened to swallow him whole. He’d tried to forget her, thinking it would be easier, because thinking about her meant longing for her again. And that wasn’t something he’d been able to manage, feeling so empty. He’d thought it would’ve been better if he just vanished quietly from her life. Simpler. 

But that was wrong. He'd just been hiding from her and how she'd made him feel. 

It didn't hurt to think about her now, as he embraced anything good to fill his soul with. Gudrid had been one of the first good things to enter his life since he'd become what he'd become, and he was immensely grateful to her as well. 

His mind turned to the time just before they'd parted, remembering what it was like to be with her as the ship swayed in the waves.

* * *

_ “You know, you’ve opened up a lot since you first came here,” she spoke as she so casually touched his hand. _

_ He sent her a confused frown, but didn't pull away. “What about it?” _

_ Gudrid just shrugged, smiling to herself and she stood to get back to her own duties. “I’m just glad, is all. I’m saying you seem like you’re changing.” _

_ Changing… Yes it was undeniable. He felt… hollow a lot of the time, like an emptiness waited for him at the edge of a precipice, and yet he was always brought back by a gentle hand on his wrist, turning him about to look at this compassionate girl. She was dazzling, and in that light, he could put the precipice from his mind. As long as she was in his sight, he wouldn’t feel empty.  _

_ He looked down, thinking again of his desire to stay with her— he wanted to ask her to stay in Iceland with him when they sailed north again. The more time that passed, the more he wanted to. She kept him in the light. She kept him from that edge. He didn’t know if she was a cure, or just a distraction from the inevitable… but either way, he didn’t want her anywhere but with him.  _

_ Glancing back at her, he watched as she cleaned the deck, her lips pursed as she concentrated on the task. “Hey.” _

_ She blinked at him. “What?” _

_ “Why did you reach out to me in the first place?” He asked, scratching at his neck.  _

_ She looked surprised at first, then her face softened as she smiled at him. That feeling of warmth she gave him was the same as it had been in so many of their encounters— whenever she was kind, whenever she was affectionate, whenever she was caring… He felt like he would burst at such a simple smile.  _

_ “Because I wanted to,” she replied, mopping again. “And it seemed like you needed a friend.” _

_ After a moment of quiet, she smiled at him again. “I’m glad I did, Thorfinn.” _

...

I’m glad you did, too… 

_ He didn’t speak the words, but he felt like she knew them already. He smiled down at his shoes, then looked out past the horizon once again.  _

* * *

Thorfinn sighed at the random memory, feeling that warmth again, even after all this time. Her smiling face was so clear in his mind, and wished he could reach for her and see her again— and he wondered what would’ve happened had she come home with him to Iceland… Had he stayed on that boat, he was confident she would’ve come with him. 

But perhaps it was better this way… They more he thought about how much he’d grown to need her, the more he thought maybe that wasn’t such a good thing...

He’d ended up clinging to her in such a way, fearing the emptiness… fearing being parted from her, that he was sure had he stayed in the state he’d been, he’d have grown to be nothing more than a burden to her. Needing her as he had and clinging to her to feel like there was anything good in the world. That wasn’t fair… to saddle her with the responsibility of his own self when that was meant to be his own burden. 

He didn’t want to be another reason she would feel trapped...

He gripped a hand to his chest, looking down to the ground.  _ I wonder what she’d say if I said that to her…  _

Probably a reprimand, honestly. She’d call him stupid and whatnot, and she’d probably be right… however, he couldn’t shake the idea that even if his life was greatly improved by her presence in it, he would add nothing beneficial to hers. 

And yet… even after learning and growing as he had… even after bearing the weight of everything he’d done and knowing he didn’t deserve it… he still wished to be with her. 

_ Why…? Why do I feel this? What do I feel? _

...

They bid Arnheid good day and set out on that familiar path towards the forest. He continued to think about that time long ago, wondering what it was that made him feel as he did.

“Einar,” Thorfinn said slowly as they walked.

“Hm?” Einar hummed, his face still in a daze as he was likely still thinking about Arnheid. 

“What is it you feel for Arnheid?” He asked and Einar tripped, just about choking. 

“Gah, what? What’re you-?” He straightened your, blinking at Thorfinn as he watched him. “Why do you ask?”

Thorfinn’s mind turned back to that time on the boat, seeing that girl with dark hair and a kind smile. To her soft hands and gentle embraces. That warmth he’d thought he’d lost when he left her filled him at the thought of her, and even if he knew he wasn't good for her, he still wished to see her once more. “Just wondering what those feelings should be called.”

Einar blushed, scratching at the back of his neck. “Geez, that’s a weird question.”

“Is it?” Thorfinn replied. “I’m sorry.”

“Nah, it’s-“ Einar sighed, laughing a bit. “It’s fine, man. Wow, you really don’t know much about normal people things, huh?”

Thorfinn didn’t reply, not seeing much of a need. 

Einar continued down the path, holding his axe over his shoulders as he looked up at the sky. “Well there’s infatuation; I think she’s beautiful and kind and that everything she does is perfect,” he laughed, blushing again. “But that’s just kind of surface level. It’s really only physical, I think? On a deeper level is love.”

“Love,” he muttered, looking down. 

“To love someone is to love them for their soul, their heart. Not just what they look like. Because there're so many pretty faces in the world, but…” he sighed, his smile softening. “There’s only one Arnheid.”

Thorfinn nodded, understanding. His mind turned again to Gudrid. When he’d first met her, he hadn’t even considered her beauty. He didn’t think about stuff like that— rejected it, really. He hated those vikings and he hated everything they did, one of which was lusting after women. So it hadn’t crossed his mind when he’d met Gudrid at first. What he’d first thought was that she was kind for no reason at all. She was pushy. She was loud. She was nosy and annoying, and all those things were now so endearing to him, he felt that warmth blossom within him at just the thought. 

_ She was truly beautiful though,  _ he thought, almost feeling her hand in his.  _ Her face and her whole soul... everything about her...  _

He missed her. He already knew that. He didn’t deserve to, but he truly missed her. He longed to see her again, to talk with her again, to hold her and kiss her again…

“Love…” he muttered, squeezing the axe in his hand a bit tighter, pondering as that warmth filled him up entirely. 

“What?” Einar asked, and Thorfinn shrugged. 

“Thank you,” he said. “I think your definition was helpful.”

Einar blinked at him. “Why?”

Thorfinn opened his mouth, then shut it, shaking his head. “I was just curious,” he muttered, deciding to keep his memories of Gudrid to himself for now— not that he didn’t trust Einar, because he most assuredly did… but he was more comfortable cherishing her within himself, quietly feeling her warmth oceans apart. 

_ Am I in love with you, Gudrid?  _ He didn’t know for sure, but he suspected what the answer might be. Considering her smile, her hands, her soul... all of it had such a lasting effect on him, he wasn’t sure there was anything else to think. 

_ I wonder… Did you feel the same for me…?  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Pleaseee please leave a comment! I'm so grateful to receive them every chapter, but I really need that kind of feedback or I worry I just won't have the energy to finish this.... thank you so much! Sorry to be so needy!


	22. Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things I like writing: Thorfinn being entirely smitten~
> 
> And ART! https://twitter.com/kate_7h/status/1283417524646756357?s=20

Thorfinn opened his eyes as if from long, deep sleep. The grass flowed in the breeze, dazzlingly golden fields as far as the eye could see. It was warm. It was quiet and peaceful, unlike anything he’d ever known. Or maybe something he’d always know. It was almost too hazy to tell. 

“You’ve been sleeping a long time,” he heard a voice say gently. 

He looked up to see a soft face above him. Gudrid smiled, brushing the stray hair from his eyes. She was older than she'd been when they'd met. Her hair was longer and her cheeks a little less round. But her smile was the same, as warm as it had ever been. He stared at her in awe for a moment, trying to understand. Then with a smile, he let his eyes close again, turning his head into her leg. 

“You’re going back to sleep?” She chuckled, poking his cheek. 

“Might as well on a day like this,” he hummed.

She giggled again, and he thought it nice to hear. He smiled wider, lifting a hand to her knee.

_ This is normal,  _ he decided in his mind. He knew that this life where he was, with the warm sun on his face and the fields and fields of grass and sheep, that this had always been his life. Father was down by the stream, watering the herd. Mother and Ylva were home, weaving their tapestries. And Gudrid was there too, close by his side as she always was. 

This was normal… he just got confused for a moment. He’d never been to war. He’d never been cold. He’d never had to kill. He’d only ever known peace. Anything else was all just one big, terrible nightmare. 

He grasped her hand against his face. “Stay with me.”

It wasn't a question, nor a command. It just was. They were happy to just exist together for as long as they could hold each other. It wasn't a question because he knew she would always be there with him. He breathed slowly, holding her gentle hand in his.

She laughed lightly. “That’s up to you.”

Her words were soft, speaking in a tone that didn't feel out of place. Yet there was something different in the words. Something strange and ominous. It wasn't quite what she would say. He sat up, taking her in as confusion filled him.

_ Something’s wrong…  _

“What do you mean?”

Gudrid just smiled, holding his hand between them as they sat in the soft grass. The breeze enfolded them in warmth, but there was a chill there which raised goosebumps along his arms. She felt… strange. It wasn’t right. She wasn’t herself, somehow. He couldn’t put his finger on it. 

Her smile faded. “You know why this is strange, right?”

He started, looking at her for the answer. 

Gudrid’s grasp tightened on his hand, a sadness in her face. 

“You know this is only a dream.”

Thorfinn swallowed, stilling at her words. In that moment everything he’d  _ known  _ about this place was false. Everything in that 'nightmare' was his actual reality. That’s why she was strange. Because she wasn’t the girl he knew. That's why everything felt wonderful… because it was a longing, not a reality. 

“Gudrid,” he muttered. “Why am I here? Why are  _ you  _ here?”

“You tell me,” she smiled sadly. “But I’m always here. When you dream of this place, you always bring me here. Why is that?”

He stopped, frozen.  _ Longing… _ It was the only word in his mind. He missed the girl he'd once known. He longed for her presence again. He wished for a time when he could reside in this place with her for real. “It’s Vinland.”

She nodded. 

“It’s Vinland, and I promised you.”

“You did,” she breathed, squeezing his hand. “Why did you promise me that?”

He looked down at her hand, then out past the fields to where his family was. “Because I want you with me.”

She didn’t ask another question, but he felt it. He turned his face to her, pulling her close as he tentatively touched his hand to her cheek. “Because… I fell in love with you before I could even begin to know what that meant.”

She closed her eyes, smiling happily.  _ She's not Gudrid. She’s just an image of her.  _ He knew that, but he hadn't seen her in so long. Back then, he wasn't able to comprehend such feelings, and they'd been so young, and he’d been entirely disconnected from any sort of life that would allow such a thing. But he loved her. He really did, and he missed her so much. He missed touch. He missed her smile. He longed for her presence beside him. 

He swallowed, bringing his other hand up to cradle her face between them. Slowly, he brought her face to his, pressing his lips to hers. Even though he  _ knew  _ this was just a dream, and this was just a vision of the beautiful soul he missed so much, it felt right, kissing Gudrid with as much affection as he could muster. In this place surrounded by sunshine and warmth, it felt  _ right.  _

When he pulled away, she sighed, looking at him sadly. “I’m not really here, you know.”

“I know." He smoothed his thumb over her cheek before releasing her. He recalled the day when he'd left her, those years ago. He promised he'd return, and though it wasn't his fault, he still never did. He could almost feel her hand in his as she slid from his grasp, and he turned his back on her and willingly walked back to the flames. "I broke my promise and figured this all out too late. I couldn't expect you to wait for me.”

_ I wonder what she really looks like now…  _

Gudrid looked at him sadly. She lifted her hand, touching his cheek softly before getting up. "I have to leave for this part."

He stared in confusion. "W- what do you mean?"

She turned her head, and he turned as well to see Thors standing in the grass in front of them. Knowing this place was a lie, and what he'd really done, he almost couldn't look the man in the eye. Shame filled him entirely. "F- Father…"

Before he could say anything else, Gudrid walked towards that giant of a man. Comparatively, she looked like a small child beside him, despite appearing older than she had before. Thors smiled sadly, pressing a hand to her shoulder as she walked away into the hazy, golden fields. 

"Where is she…?" he began to ask, blinking at his father, not quite realizing yet the strangeness of seeing the two of them together. But this was his perfect place. It made sense that those important to him would appear here... 

Thors was holding a lamb in his arms. As he walked up the hill, he didn't look at Thorfinn. He simply knelt, placing the lamb on the ground. 

"She hasn't done anything to be here," Thors said, his voice kind and firm all at once. "Not like you and me."

Thorfinn swallowed, feeling the warmth begin to chill. The golden air began to dim, giving everything a cold light. "I don't understand, Father."

He didn't answer for a moment, running his hand gently over the wool on the creature's head. Thorfinn stood, feeling the foreboding like ice in his veins. "Father, I-"

Thors looked up at him once more, and it was one he recognized from the rare times when the man had truly and severely reprimanded him as a child… when he'd done something very wrong and the calm anger in his father could fill the room.

"Thorfinn, who did you kill with those swords?"

His eyes widened, his body frozen as the ground gave way beneath his feet, the world suddenly drenched in blood as he was dragged below...

* * *

Gasping himself awake, Thorfinn shot up in the pile of straw. He shivered, feeling the cold sweat down his back as he got his bearings. 

"It's not even light yet, Thorfinn," he heard Einar murmur from his place in the barn. Thorfinn gaped at him, trying to catch his breath. He pressed a hand to his forehead, shivering at the dream, as he did most mornings. He could almost feel the grime under his fingernails as he climbed up that cliff, feeling the weight… so heavy…  _ so heavy…  _ He couldn't remember everything, but that was pretty usual. He always remembered the cliff…

But… there was warmth. He remembered feeling the warmth of gentle hands on his face. He remembered feeling shame, and that deep longing that left him with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

_ "Why did you promise me that?" _

The words flowed through his mind, and though he hadn't heard them outside of his dream, he knew that it was Gudrid who'd said it. He shut his eyes, vaguely remembering her touch. Perhaps she'd been in the dream… perhaps she’d kissed him— he remembered that sometimes. But if she was there, it would explain the longing he felt... 

Einar moved in the dark, drawing Thorfinn's attention to him. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he muttered, lying down in the straw once more. "Yeah, it's fine."

"You talked a lot tonight," Einar said, his voice quiet. 

This was a common occurrence, and Thorfinn really wished he didn't wake the man so often. But there really wasn't much he could do about his shrieking and moaning while he was unconscious. "Sorry, Einar."

He brushed off his apology nonchalantly. "What do you remember?" 

Thorfinn closed his eyes, feeling the mass of dead pulling at him still, hoarding him from all directions as they cursed him… cursed his life and cursed his soul… 

_ Give me time… I swear I’ll pull you up, just give me time…  _

“Aside from the dead… I think there was more,” he muttered, seeing vague colors and feeling the warmth. Her hands holding his… his lips pressed to hers… “I’m not sure if I remember…”

"That's probably for the best," Einar sighed. "You were calling for your father again."

Thorfinn frowned slightly, not remembering that. The only thing clear was the dead. There were vague impressions of warmth and gentleness, but anything past when Gudrid had been there was gone from his mind… aside from the cliff.  _ I wish I could recall the dreams completely…  _ maybe then he could speak with his father again…

He knew he didn’t deserve that comfort though… to sit with his father and just talk, even if it was just in a dream… but he longed for it. At the same time, he was afraid. He feared facing him after everything he'd done, after hearing him speak in that first dream of the dead that he’d recalled. 

_ “Who did you kill with those swords?”  _

...

Perhaps there was a reason he couldn't truly remember whenever the dream turned cold...

He rubbed a hand over his face, shivering a bit from the night air. "Did you sleep alright, Einar?"

Einar chuckled, and Thorfinn heard him settling into the straw again. "To be honest, not really."

Thorfinn glanced in his direction, questioning silently. 

"It's dumb," he sighed after a moment. "But Arnheid said something really sweet this morning and it's been running through my head all day."

Thorfinn smiled, feeling the urge to laugh in his chest. The man really adored that woman. He'd never seen a grown man writhe so happily before as Einar did in Arnheid's presence. But he could understand, though he never had that kind of reaction to the woman who appeared in his dreams. 

“You really like Arnheid, huh?” Thorfinn muttered quietly, to which he could hear Einar sigh. 

“Yeah… yeah, I really do,” he said resolutely, as if he was confident in knowing exactly what his heart felt. Thorfinn smiled again. 

“I mean, I’ve liked other girls before when I was younger, but there’s definitely something different about her,” Einar muttered, more speaking to himself now than to Thorfinn. 

“I guess, being a warrior like you were, you didn’t have any girls around to like, huh?” Einar continued absentmindedly.

His mind turned back to the dream. Though he couldn't recall her face from that specifically, he could bring up her smile on command. She was luminous, holding in her a sense of warmth that was akin to a summer sun. He bit his lip, feeling that longing again as he thought of her, and he wondered where she was now. 

_ Hopefully she found a way to keep sailing, like she wanted.  _ He hoped she was living her dreams… not trapped in Greenland, as she so despised. 

“Actually, I…” he stopped, sighing lightly. “There was one.”

He heard rustling and Einar sat up, just about it gaping at him. “Seriously?”

Thorfinn flushed, scratching his nose. “There was a girl who’d stowed away on Leif’s ship when he tried to bring me back to Iceland… just before I wound up sold again. She… ended up meaning a lot to me.”

Einar chuckled, then laughed outright, the kind of belly laugh which filled a room. And fill their little barn, it did. Thorfinn frowned, blushing deeper, unsure of what to say. 

“Sorry man, I just-!” Einar laughed a bit more, settling into a comfortable chuckle. “You never told me that before!”

“It… never came up,” Thorfinn sighed, sinking a bit into the straw. “Sorry.”

Einar scoffed. “No need for that, it’s just nice to hear you’ve had some actual human experiences aside from fighting your whole life. Although by how you were when we’d met, I would’ve never thought you’d had  _ any _ kind of relationship before.”

“Things happened between when I was with her and when I came to be here…” he looked away, thinking on the brutality of the masters on his journey to Jutland, how he’d been torn down from the little perch he’d been able to find with Leif and Gudrid, and how by the time he’d found himself cutting trees for Ketil, he’d had little to no sense of worth left. Just an empty, gaping hole in his chest and a lot more scars from lashings designed to break his spirit… It hadn’t taken long… How strong could a foundation be when it was solely built on one other person?

“What was her name?” Einar asked when Thorfinn grew quiet again. “If you don’t mind me askin’.” 

“I don’t mind,” Thorfinn replied. “Her name was Gudrid.”

He smiled to himself, remembering how it had felt to be around her. "She’d tried with all her might to be my friend."

Einar hummed, listening as Thorfinn spoke. 

“It was… strange. I wasn’t really in a place to accept that from her, but she kept trying until I wanted to try too.” He spoke slowly, letting his mind dwell on that time, those couple months he’d been able to spend with her. He thought of her face, wondering again what she looked like now, having grown up from barely more than a kid to a grown woman.  _ I wonder if she sometimes thinks of me now too… _ “It wasn’t until after I left that I realized how much she meant to me.”

Einar was quiet for a moment before asking quietly, “You’re in love with her?”

Thorfinn swallowed, considering the complexity of that question. How he’d tried to forget and let himself be empty, but thoughts of her never really seemed to leave him. He thought of her kindness, and how she was always goofing around. He thought of how pretty she was, he thought of her song, he thought of her lips pressed to his. He thought of her anger as she reprimanded him, her horror as he killed a man in front of her… And how she’d forgiven him, despite her fear. 

“From what I can understand…” Thorfinn said thoughtfully. “Yes, I- I think I do.”

_ But I never deserved to from the beginning… only now do I see that. _

“We’ll be free within the year, I think,” Einar spoke, his voice soft. “Is that what you’ll do when you’re free? Find her again?”

Thorfinn felt himself nod before he could really think about it. “Maybe… I hope so.”

His thoughts about freedom had already been engaged though… feeling the weight of those dead pull at him, weighing him down… he was already considering where best to bring them, if they desired to go with him. 

_ I’ll bring you to Vinland, you wretched souls… _

But bringing the dead… didn’t mean he couldn't bring others with him… It was just an idea, but if he could find her again, maybe he could finally keep his promise.

He laid his head back down, wondering where she was, what she was doing. If he could find Leif again, he would know. He wondered if she was angry with him, or missed him. Maybe she’d forgotten him. Maybe she thought of him as often as he did her…

_ Maybe we can go to Vinland together... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Gudrid’s pov! 
> 
> Thank you very very much! To everyone who’s read this far and continues to support me and the things I throw together, I am immensely grateful! We’re almost to the end, so please be patient and stick with me! <3 love you all!


	23. Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Your thoughts, they must be so far away  
>  Oh, could they reach me here?  
> I know, far away I know  
> But I take you everywhere I go  
> I take you everywhere I go_  
> Take You Everywhere I Go - Birdy
> 
> I apologize for having not finished replying to your comments, I will keep working through them! I just have such a low attention span... (also seriously, look up that song, it is absolutely stunning!)
> 
> Art: https://twitter.com/kate_7h/status/1286386846922989569?s=20

Gudrid sat by the beach as she so often did, staring at the horizon as she clutched her knees to her chest. It wasn’t any different than what she’d done before, always waiting for Leif. Always waiting for the world to come to her. 

Since he’d dumped her back in Greenland after returning from her impromptu trip with him, having succeeded in stowing away that once, she waited for him for another reason. She watched that horizon line, hoping that he’d bring news of Thorfinn being found again. That he was home safe, and Leif would take her to Iceland and she could finally see him again. She could finally hold him and feel that he was safe, and then she’d never ever let him go again. 

She shivered, feeling the chill of the breeze. It was cold, fall now in full swing as the days grew shorter. 

_ More time passing…  _

It had been over four years since he’d disappeared.

She sighed, leaning her face against her knees, feeling that sadness settle within her.  _ Where are you, Thorfinn?  _

She thought of that sight which haunted her mind so often; the image of his face as he looked at her one last time before disappearing into the night. The current pushed and pulled against her as she stared into the place where he’d gone. She waited and waited for him to come back, but he never did. He never did...

Despite the cold, she grasped his discarded knife in her bare hands, clutching it against her legs. It was no substitute for the real boy, and she sort of hated the thing —it being a reminder of the things she truly hated about him— but it was all she had left of him. And every time ships came to their harbor and Leif stepped off that boat… every time he shook his head at her, it tore a piece of her heart away. She almost wished Leif wouldn’t come at all, so she wouldn’t have those few moments of vain hope as she agonized for that ship to reach the docks. 

_ Maybe I should go home…  _ she thought not for the first time. She’d resided at Leif’s farm for years now, since Thorstein had married her. It was a blessing at the time, anything to go somewhere bigger, meet new people. But now it was… just getting harder to stay put. 

_ Maybe it would be easier with my family... _

Gudrid sighed, kicking a rock into the water before standing. She sheathed the knife and shoved it into her bag.  _ Stupid Thorfinn! That damn idiot disappearing like that! I hate him! I hate him!  _

But she knew it wasn’t true. It was never true, no matter how many times she told herself it was. She wiped her eyes before tears could even sting her. “I hate you, Thorfinn… stupid asshole...”

She hugged herself at the words, biting her lip.  _ I love you… please be alright…  _

She cinched her bag up her shoulder and began to turn when her eye caught the sight of a ship on the horizon and she froze. 

_ It’s not him…  _ she told herself, as she did every single time.  _ It’s never him.  _

And yet she waited until she could see the boat closer and clearer. It would be Leif coming back, telling her he’d come up with nothing. Again. That Thorfinn was nowhere to be found, and then she’d hide herself in her room and cry and cry, and then she’d beg for him to take her again so she could do something with her life other than  _ waiting!  _

But this was Leif, and he always said no, and then she hated him too. 

The ship came closer, and her heart sank before it could even land, seeing that the colors of the sails weren’t even Leif’s. She frowned heavily, turning and walking away, not interested in whatever outside came to visit today.  _ I’m done. I’m tired.  _

So she walked inland, inclined to hide herself in snowfields because whoever it was could go sink for all she cared. She was sure her kid self from years ago would gawk at her, turning her back on anything from the greater world. But little kid self hadn’t been anywhere before. This Gudrid had. She’d seen a bit of the world and loved it with all her heart. It wasn’t as much a curiosity anymore as it was a longing. It was a bit disenchanting, knowing that not a single one of those ships would ever give her what she wanted. 

_ I want to be free to go where I please, live how I choose,  _ she thought, climbing up the rocks to those snowfields above the farm.  _ I want Thorfinn to be with me again, safe and sound and happy.  _

There was no ship coming that would bring her those things. So she turned her back on it and retreated inland, feeling angry and hurt and more than a little frustrated. 

The wind off the snowfields was so much colder than the sea breeze as you sail, warmed by a sense of adventure. She missed it, the salty air, the waves crashing around her, nothing but the distant horizon guiding them on. That short bit of time when she’d sailed with Leif had ruined her. Now she knew for sure she could never be happy in this place, not when she was barred from the only life she could do right… not when she was barred from the whole world. 

“Ugh, why am I stuck on this stupid island!?” She shouted, stomping her feet in aggravation. “Dammit!”

She let herself fall, lying in the fresh snow as she pouted, looking up at the sky. “Why am I here, huh? Where’s my life even going?”

_ No response.  _

She growled, glaring up at the sky. A bird flew high above her, fluttering around in the breeze _.  _ With a sigh, she watched it fly, lower, then higher, catching the stronger winds coming off the sea. She watched it go up until it careened right, sailing through the sky to the south. Gudrid turned her head, following as it flew past the shore towards the horizon line. 

Gudrid shut her eyes, clasping her hands to her chest.  _ If only I were a bird. Then my wings could take me away from this place… _

_ Maybe I could find you, Thorfinn, if I were a bird... _

She must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing she knew she was being shaken roughly. 

“Gudrid! Gudrid, what on earth are you doing?!” Tulla exclaimed, pulling at her arms. 

“Huh?” Gudrid blinked, feeling cold as she saw the sky with almost no light left in it. “Wha-?”

“Why’re you sleeping in the snow? Are you hurt?”

“What? No no, I was just bored,” she replied, pulling herself up and dusting the snow from her coat. 

Tulla sighed, hands on her hips. “Well that’s a good way to get yourself frozen to death, you imbecile.”

Gudrid groaned dramatically. “Better than being stuck here…”

“Well then maybe you’ll actually be fine with this news.”

She swung her head at the woman, blinking at her. “Hah?”

Tulla pulled her by the arm. “C’mon, let’s go inside.”

Good news: she wouldn’t have to be stuck in Greenland anymore!

Bad news: the reason for that was she was being married off again…

_ Why is it to go anywhere I gotta get married? _

“I’m not doing it,” she said, not even looking at the door as Tulla entered. Gudrid knew storming off during a formal meeting with the messenger of so-and-so whatever wasn’t the best plan, but she’d been too angry to care. “No way.”

“And why not?!” Tulla exclaimed, exhaustion in her face. “Halfdan asked for  _ you _ , and they’re a very wealthy family in Iceland. Iceland! Not Greenland! Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Not by getting married, nuh-uh…” she mumbled, emptying her bag of the weird rocks she’d picked up earlier— because  _ that’s  _ what Greenland had driven her to… collecting weird rocks. 

Tulla sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “Gudrid, I know what you want to do, but it’s unrealistic. It’s the dream of a kid. You’re already nineteen, you’re not a kid anymore.”

Gudrid gritted her teeth as she pulled the knife from her bag and slammed it on the table. “I’m not… doing it.”

That made Tulla go quiet, because she knew damn well what that knife was, and that it wasn’t just her dreams of adventure making her reject this with every fiber of her being. 

After a few moments, she heard Tulla step closer as she sat beside her on the bench. Her hand was gentle on her back, but Gudrid just clung to the knife, her knuckles white as she refused to look at the woman. 

“I can’t, sister...” she picked it up again, bringing it to her chest. “He’s- he’s still out there, I know it. I just- can’t you make Leif take me with him instead? I’d do more good as a sailor than a wife, and you know it.”

Gudrid hadn’t noticed she’d started to cry until Tulla pulled her into her, rubbing her back soothingly as she continued to cling to the knife. 

“I know I can help find him. He just needs to let me. Please…”

“Gudrid, it’s been four years…”

“So?” She leaned into the woman’s comforting embrace. “He- he’s alive, I know it, sister. He just needs help. He needs me!”

Tulla rocked her as her tears overflowed. But this wasn’t the first time she’d asked this. She knew the reply. She had no choice. Whether she liked it or not, her next voyage would be to Iceland to marry the son of Halfdan. 

She wept harder, knowing the only reason she wanted to be in Iceland hadn’t been to that place in a very long time. 

“My brother has been looking for that boy for almost as long as you’ve been alive, my dear,” Tulla said softly. “It was a surprise he’d found him at all, to be honest. I- it’s… unlikely… to happen again.”

“You don’t know that,” she shuddered, hugging that knife tighter. “You don’t know him. He  _ wants _ to come home now.”

“He’s surely strong to have survived so long,” Tulla sighed. “But dear, are you going to wait for him your whole life?”

Gudrid nodded without hesitation and Tulla shook her head. “I’ve watched you make yourself miserable these past four years, Gudrid. Please consider a life that might make you happy, and not this stagnant sadness.”

_ Happy? _ Getting married to some random stranger wasn’t going to make her happy. If she was going to marry in Iceland, it wasn't going to be to some landlord’s son… She didn’t know if Thorfinn would want that, but he’d asked her to stay with him in Iceland. If she was going there, it would be with him. 

“You can’t spend your life waiting for a ghost…”

Gudrid didn’t reply, feeling her angry tears continue to fall down her cheeks. 

After a while, Tulla stood and went to the door. “The wedding will be held in two weeks. You’ll want to start preparing, dear.”

Gudrid didn’t respond, because her words didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. She just looked at the wall, feeling that heavy frown on her face as she clutched the knife. After Tulla left, she moved to lie on her bed, feeling way too hopeless. She sighed, shutting her eyes, thinking back to years ago. To promises made and all the hopes she’d had. 

_ We were gonna live in Iceland together, right Thorfinn? We were gonna try to go to Vinland, away from all of this, right?  _

“Now would be a really good time to come back, Thorfinn,” she said, holding the shiny steel over her, seeing her reflection in the blade.

She wasn’t expecting a response ever, but it still hurt her every time when it didn’t come. She let her arm fall, dropping the knife with a clank on the floor, then she just stared at the ceiling. 

_ Why… Why do I never get a choice? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! Next chapter: Reunion
> 
> Please stick around and keep reading this! I'm trying so hard to finish and keep finding the motivation to do this and my other writing pieces, and I really rely on you guys and your words of excitement and encouragement. (I'm so grateful for the help I've gotten, but there are still times when I feel like I'm just throwing these into a void and that's disheartening...)


	24. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, got a bit stuck on connecting scenes, and also I took a bit of a break and went out to hike and stuff for a bit. Clear my head and get outside and stuff (saw so many bison omg)

It was strange coming to Iceland again after so many years. It was a blurry memory which was suddenly visible. He almost couldn't believe he'd forgotten it in the first place. The cliffs, the snow, the white-capped water from the shore, the cold wind blowing through him, beckoning him beyond the waves as a child…

And now he'd returned, grown well past that. Yet the little island remained the same.

His mother had aged, and so had Ylva. It was a whirlwind, coming home to them again. Despite knowing her health was fragile, Helga seemed almost vibrant. She was older now, but he was touched by her bright and knowing smile. 

_“Thors had those exact same eyes,”_ she’d said, and those words moved him down to his very soul. He wanted to be a better person. He wanted to be kind and peaceful. Truly, he aspired to be like his father. Sufficeth to say, meeting his mother again had been positively heavenly. 

The children had been confused at first at his presence, having known nothing about him at all, but they warmed to him easily. Thorfinn hadn’t spent much time around children since he himself was a child, so this being his first opportunity, he found he enjoyed playing with them immensely. His young niece couldn’t pronounce every word all that well yet, so she elected to call him ‘ _Uckle Tofim,’_ and he couldn’t help but think it was the cutest thing he’d ever heard. 

Ylva was just as boisterous and bullheaded as he remembered, and he loved her for it, (well maybe not the part where she was punching him into tomorrow…) but he knew she cared. Well, she cared enough to make sure he was presentable enough for women, according to her… which had never been a thought in his head. After all, Gudrid had liked him well enough even when he was still an unkempt warrior...

_Gudrid..._

He felt himself sigh at the thought of her. Being in Iceland, he was closer to her now than he had been since they’d parted, (which he knew because after everything had settled down at the farm, he’d asked Leif of her whereabouts, seeing as she was _not_ on his ship anymore, and he’d gotten his hopes up for nothing when Leif had showed up without her…) But it was probably better for her to have not been there those last few days on Ketil’s farm… the horror, the bloodshed… _Arnheid…_ The grief would sit in his heart all his days, he was sure. 

Still, he had half a mind to tote his crew up to Greenland as soon as possible to see her, or even pick her up, (although he was sure Leif would protest that part…) Either way, he felt that longing within him that was so familiar to him now— every time he thought of her. After losing Arnheid… after watching the grief that Einar felt for losing the woman he loved so deeply… Thorfinn felt that longing become almost desperate to feel Gudrid alive and well, hating himself a bit more for that, feeling entirely selfish. 

Either way, going to Greenland wasn’t an option at the moment. For now, they were on their way to negotiate with Halfdan the Chainer.

Thorfinn sighed, looking up at the manor on the hill. Having been on the side of slaves, he felt hesitant to speak with the man, but at the same time invigorated. He was a free man again, and he held within himself the knowledge and experience of both sides of that coin. Perhaps it lended some perspective that a man like Halfdan couldn't know. Perhaps something like that could be in his favor. 

He wondered if they could come to an understanding. His memories of the man from when he was a child were foggy, but filled with the apprehension a dangerous person gives to children. But surely he could see the logic and profit in an endeavor such as Vinland. The man already had enough boats to carry many across the sea, why wouldn't he want to contribute to such a potentially lucrative venture. He was optimistic. 

“These ships all belong to Halfdan?” Bug Eyes said, looking out across the pier filled with nearly half a dozen ships. 

“He must be rich to have so many,” Thorfinn replied, feeling a smile fill his face. “My hopes are high.”

At that moment, Leif returned to the dock. “Sadly, that does not seem to be the case.”

Turned out that Sigurd, the son of Halfdan, was to be married, and that those ships belonged to the bride and her wedding party. Thorfinn didn’t know the man, but he felt happy for him. He had no idea about anything regarding marriage, but his mother and father loved each other dearly, that much he knew. So he hoped it would be well with this couple. 

“How does a wedding fit into our plan to borrow money?” Einar asked, bringing him back to the matter at hand. 

“Maybe he’ll be in a generous mood,” Thorfinn replied as he thought it through a little more. “We should put together a gift.” 

Though his memories of Halfdan were of a cold and cruel man, the people and the village seemed relatively happy. But if it was true that Halfdan was cold, perhaps even the marriage of his son wouldn’t be enough to soften his heart. And from how Leif spoke of rumors and such, Thorfinn wondered how this meeting would go.

He blinked, looking across the way in confusion. 

_Did that barrel just… move…?_

As he watched, it was still, and for a good moment he actually thought he was going crazy. 

Then it stood and walked again. 

Even as Thorfinn asked Leif questions, he found himself entirely distracted by the barrel. He watched it repeatedly lift itself to reveal two scuttling feet under it, then dropping again as it waited for passerbies to walk away. 

It was just such an odd sight, he couldn’t help but watch as it made its way down the front of the pier. 

_Couldn’t be a child… a barrel that size would be far too heavy to lift…_

“What is it?” Leif asked when Thorfinn had stopped responding. 

“That barrel…” he said, almost laughing as he pointed at it. “It’s been... walking around. Was just wondering…”

Leif tilted his head at it, squinting. “What…?”

After a few moments, the person in the barrel stood up again, screaming at the top its _-her?-_ lungs. He blinked, gaping at it as a hand burst through the wood, shaking a fist. 

“Leif!!” She shouted, her angry voice echoing within the barrel as she marched up to them. “Leif, son of Erik! Don’t you dare leave me behind again!”

The person in the barrel was now standing as close to Leif's face as she could get. "Thanks to you, I'm now in a terrible bind! This is all _your_ fault, thank you very much!"

It was such a strange scene, Thorfinn had no idea what to even think. He half just wanted to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness.

_But… there’s something familiar about her voice..._

Leif stared at the barrel, blinking. "I'm afraid I don't know any barrels. You'll need to show me your face."

She stopped, stilling in the wooden vessel. "Oh."

A moment later, the barrel was lifted and set on the dock, revealing a beautiful, dark haired woman underneath. She stood straight, annoyance on her face as she glared right at Leif. 

Thorfinn’s eyes widened, gaping at her face and he suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

_It- it’s her…!_

She was maybe a bit taller now, her hair longer and still tied in a braid. Her face was a little less round. She still wore the same crucifix around her neck. It was undoubtedly the same girl he'd known all those years ago. The one who'd forced her friendship on him so aggressively, he'd fallen in love with her.

“Gud-“ he started, feeling his voice choke a bit on the name. 

"Gudrid! What are _you_ doing here…?!" Leif exclaimed at her, neither noticing his wide-eyed gaping just beside the exchange.

"That's what I'd like to know!" She cried, yanking a scrap of cloth from her bag and wrapping it about her head. 

He felt Einar’s hand on his shoulder from behind. “Is that-?”

Thorfinn nodded, unable to take his eyes off her. But she was so consumed with what was on her mind now, she hadn’t even looked at him. Her full focus was on Leif. 

“At any rate, there’s a bad man after me. So hide me on your ship,” she said, pulling the headscarf around her to hide her face. 

“What bad man? Explain yourself!”

“Just let me on first! I’ll tell you why on the ship!”

They continued to squabble, and Thorfinn suddenly felt like he was years younger, sitting to the side while the two bickered about nothing in particular. It was like no time had passed at all. Except it had. He had changed. He had grown. He couldn’t know if she’d changed much, but she had definitely grown. _She looks so much older…_ He felt a strong desire to step forward and wrap his arms around her and never let go. But four years was a long time. Who knew how she felt now...

“You said you’d take me again! You said! When Thorfinn went missing, you said you’d take me again!” Gudrid yelled, and at his name, he blinked, coming back to the matter at hand. “You promised!”

“Only to shut you up!” Leif shot back. “If I hadn’t said that, you would’ve just stowed away again!”

Gudrid opened her mouth to argue again, but Leif held up a hand. “And you’re so interested in giving me an earful, have you even noticed the person standing right behind me?”

She stopped, blinking at him, then finally her eyes turned to Thorfinn. He watched her take him in, feeling like he was frozen in place. Confusion filled her eyes, looking him over. 

_She… doesn't recognize me either…_ It stung more than he cared to admit. He couldn't speak. He really couldn't. He just stared at her with his mouth open like an idiot. 

_Gosh, how did she get even more beautiful…?_

Then her eyes widened not a moment later, sparkling in the sunlight from the waves. She gasped, covering her mouth with her gloved hands. 

“T- Thorfinn?” She breathed, still gaping at him. 

He still felt frozen as he continued to stare at her. A shove from Einar behind him was the only thing that got him to even respond. He stumbled forward, nodding. He scratched the back of his neck, feeling his face warm. 

“It’s- uh… It’s good to see you, Gudrid.”

She stared at him for a moment longer, her wide eyes beginning to fill with tears. After what felt like an eternity of gaping at one another, she gritted her teeth and just about launched herself at him. He had to fall back a step as she wrapped her arms around his neck, gripping fists full of his cloak. He blinked, gaping as she clung to him, that familiar warmth flooding his heart. He bit his lip as a smile filled his face and he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tight. It was unreal. He’d dreamt of holding her again so often, it almost felt like an everyday occurrence. But this wasn’t a dream. She was really here, standing in his arms and grasping him with all her strength. 

"You're real, right?" Gudrid mumbled into his shoulder. "You're really here?"

"Yeah," he breathed, leaning his cheek against her hair. "I'm here."

Her hands gripped him tighter, squeezing him close to painful, but he didn't mind. He didn’t mind at all. He never wanted to let her go again. He could feel her trembling as she clung to him. 

“I waited for you…” her voice was muffled as she spoke. “I waited and waited.”

A pang of guilt hit him, and he hugged her tighter, burying his face in her scarf. “I’m sorry.”

“You said you’d come back… you promised...” her voice was less than a whisper now. “W- what happened…?”

He could hear the pain in her voice, feel the shaking in her body. Though it was a different kind of guilt than what lay with him from his victims, the guilt of having abandoned her still stung him to the core. At least it was something he could try to make up to her.

“I’m so sorry, Gudrid,” he breathed, lifting his hand to her head, pressing her close. “Please forgive me.”

She was quiet after that, and he didn’t know what else to say. All he could do was hug her, feel her actual presence here in his arms, and not just the memory of it in his mind, or the ghost of her touch from dreams. Perhaps it was going on for too long, perhaps the people around them were growing uncomfortable, but he couldn’t bring himself to step away. For years, he’d longed to hold her again, to see her face, to bask in the warmth of her smile. He didn’t want to let her go again. 

_I’m going to Vinland now, Gudrid. I’ll have you with me, if you still want that..._

After a few extended moments of silence, holding each other like that, Gudrid pulled away, blushing brilliantly. The thought to grab her up and hug her again crossed his mind, but he pushed it down, trying to respect her wishes. Still, it left him feeling a little cold now, without her warmth against him. She blew out a breath, avoiding making eye contact with him. He blinked, confused again. _She's feeling… awkward?_

"Couldn't have come at a worse time, yeesh," she muttered, more to herself than to him as she folded her arms. 

He was about to ask what she meant, but then she turned back to Leif and pointed a finger at Thorfinn. "This is all the more reason you _have_ to take me with you!"

"One situation has nothing to do with the other!" Leif shot back. "You shouldn't have been on my ship in the first place, remember?"

"Whatever! Thorfinn's back, which means I should be allowed back on the ship, too!" Gudrid huffed, but she looked more nervous now as she glanced over her shoulder, tucking the headscarf around her face carefully. 

_Wait, didn't she say there was a bad man after her?_

"Wait, Gudrid," Thorfinn started. "Who's after you-?"

"You're already an adult, Gudrid!" Leif continued, neither hearing his question. "Why don't you grow up and act more like a woman?!"

Her face dropped into a deep scowl, her voice seething. "Aha! 'Like a woman!' Your favorite little phrase! You know how much I hate that, don't you?!"

"It doesn't matter to me whether you hate it or like it!" Leif shot back. "It's common sense! It's tradition!"

He squared himself up, pointing a finger right in Gudrid's face. "A woman… cannot be a sailor!" 

He gestured at the ship, his face red as he shouted. "It is men who ride on ships! And women who protect the home! It's the way it's always been! And you are a _woman,_ Gudrid!"

Silence filled all on the deck, and the chill running down Thorfinn's spine was most definitely not from the wind. This was everything Gudrid had tried to escape from, this kind of talk and treatment. Thorfinn loved Leif like family, but he couldn't help but feel upset with him. Gudrid was a good sailor, and it's what she loved to do. Why not let her? Why couldn't she join them? He'd already promised to take her, afterall. But he wasn't sure what to say in the slightest, feeling an interjection might escalate the argument further than it already had. 

"Maybe we should mediate?" Bug Eyes whispered behind him, no doubt having the same idea as Thorfinn.

"But we really don't know the situation," Einar replied.

Gudrid just stood there, her frown deep as she fumed. After a moment, she turned away, letting out a harsh breath. Suddenly, she pulled a knife from the sheath on her waist, standing squared in front of Leif. 

Thorfinn blinked, a jolt running through him. _She- she wouldn't hurt Leif, right?_ Sure, the man was being unfair, but she wouldn't resort to using a weapon to attack him, right?! At least, he hoped not. She seemed very angry, after all… He felt himself take a step forward, just in case her temper got the better of her.

"N- now calm down, Gudrid. There's no need for blades," Leif said nervously. "Just hand it here…"

Gudrid pulled the headscarf from her head, still glaring at the man. Then in a smooth motion, she gripped her long braid and slashed through it with the knife, throwing her hair down to the dock. 

Thorfinn felt himself gape at her, then at the hair. _What- what in the..._

"I'm done being a woman," Gudrid said curtly, sheathing her knife once more as her hair fell to her chin. "You've never seen a woman with hair this short. So let me on board."

Leif was quiet for a moment, sweating as he looked back and forth between the girl and the ground. "I… I can't. Not until you explain yourself." 

"Oh, come on! Take a hint! That was the part where you have to let me on your ship!"

She whipped her head around as if she were being chased. Suddenly she sprung forward, skating past Leif to board. “Just ease up, will ya?! Let me hide on your ship!”

“H- hey! Stop! The pier is very-!”

Before Leif could even finish his statement, her boot slipped on the icy pier and she was nearly upside down in the air, landing on her head with a startling clunk. 

“Ah- Gudrid!” Thorfinn shouted, rushing to her side to see if she was alright. 

Leif sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Geez, this girl…”

Thorfinn lifted her head, feeling the back of her hair to see if she was bleeding. Thankfully she wasn’t, which probably meant she’d be fine. He breathed a sigh of relief. Einar stooped next to him, concern on his face. 

“She okay?” He asked, and Thorfinn nodded as the others gathered around them. 

“Well, lets get her aboard,” Leif sighed. 

“You want her on the ship now?” Einar asked. 

“Well, we can’t just leave her on the dock, huh?” Leif rolled his eyes. “But I do wonder what would bring Gudrid here to Halfdan’s farm…”

Thorfinn glanced at them, then gently lifted her into his arms, grateful to hold her again, even if it was because she’d accidentally bashed her head into the pier. He shut his eyes briefly, smiling as he cradled her head against his shoulder. 

“Come lay her down over here, then,” Leif said with a sigh, gesturing to some laid out blankets on the ship. 

“Sure,” Thorfinn said, hoisting her up a bit as he walked onto the boat. Gudrid groaned in her sleep, her hands grasping at him lightly. He smiled again, then gently laid her on the deck. 

“Smooth,” Einar chuckled, and Thorfinn blushed, scratching his neck. 

“Hopefully she’ll wake in a few minutes, then she can actually explain herself,” Leif huffed, standing up beside Thorfinn. 

Thorfinn looked down at her sleeping face, still almost disbelieving she was actually here, right in front of him. She was beautiful, so much more beautiful than he remembered, it was amazing. He let out a sigh, scratching his neck as he tore his eyes away, trying not to stare. 

“You filthy kidnappers!” Someone shouted, and he blinked at the shore. A man who looked exactly like Halfdan stood glowering at them. “Right in broad daylight on the lands of Halfdan the Chainer. I applaud your sheer bravado.”

“Ah! No, it’s not what you think!” Leif shouted, waving his hand. “You don’t understand, I’m this girl’s-“

Suddenly, Thorfinn felt a shift in the air, that familiar malice that came with bloodlust. The man raised his arm, and Thorfinn felt a jolt of dread within him. 

“Get back, Leif!” He yelled, pulling the man out of the way before wood splintered right where they’d been standing. He blinked, surprise filling him now. _A chain? He used a chain as a whip?!_ A long-reaching whip, which meant everyone was in danger where they stood. He had to make this man understand there was no harm here quickly. 

“Everyone, back behind the mast!” He shouted as he pulled off his cloak, figuring to use it as a shield. 

Another swipe of the chain came for his face, and he dodged, then another. _To kill someone before even knowing their business… Ridiculous…_ He still pulled the cloak off, dodging chain after chain. 

“Hang on!” He shouted. “You’re misunder-!”

“What am I misunderstanding, you knave?!” The man cried back, attacking relentlessly. “How else would you explain Gudrid’s hair?! How could you do such a thing?! Does it bring you pleasure to cut off a woman’s hair?!”

Thorfinn grit his teeth. _He thinks we did that?!_ He was still confused as to why she herself would do that as well, but this man’s reaction to it all was insane— so quick to attack, so slow to words… 

_That’s quite enough,_ he thought resolutely. Matching the timing of his whip, Thorfinn reached out, letting the chain wrap around his cloak, then grasped the chain to stop the attacks. 

“That’s not what you think either!” He bellowed, holding firm to the chain. “She cut her hair on her own!”

“What woman would do such a thing?!” The man shouted back, refusing to listen at all. “A woman’s hair is her very life!”

 _Well, that’s probably not true at all for Gudrid…_ Thorfinn thought, biting his lip. She’d cut it and thrown it away so easily. It seemed to mean very little to her, the length of her hair. What mattered to her was wanderlust, adventure and freedom. This man claimed to know Gudrid and was defending her, but he didn’t even see the person she was aside from the fact that she was a woman?

But it wasn’t the time to argue logic with a man who wanted to inflict violence first. 

“I- I agree with you!” Thorfinn sputtered, trying to pick his words carefully to deescalate the already escalated situation. “I agree, but it’s the truth!”

“We’re not kidnappers!” Leif shouted from behind the mast. “I am Gudrid’s brother-in-law! She fell on the ice and hit her head…”

“Brother?! Don’t you mean grandpa?! You kidnappers can’t even bother to think up a likely story!” Sigurd went on, still not listening to a word of reason or explanation. “Sigurd, son of Halfdan, has never received such an insult before!”

Another chain came out suddenly, shooting towards him. He was barely able to block it with the cloak-wrapped arm, but he still felt the thing stab through it into his flesh. _A bladed chain?!_ He grit his teeth as Sigurd pulled it from his arm for another blow. 

“Thorfinn!” Einar called, but he concentrated on Sigurd’s next moves. Or he _would’ve_ had his view not been suddenly blocked by his very large friend. 

His stomach dropped as Einar spread himself out completely exposed to the attacks, ready to take it in Thorfinn’s place. He didn’t even have anything to guard against it. 

“Stop, Einar! Get back!” He shouted.

Einar ignored him. “We told you it’s not what you think! Just listen!”

Sigurd made no response, and Thorfinn couldn’t see anymore, but he heard the clicking of the chain and dread filled him. He tensed, preparing to yank Einar to the ground before letting him get hurt for his sake. 

Thankfully, a newcomer stopped the whole affair with a single word. They all turned, and Thorfinn felt chills down his spine at the face of the man. 

_Halfdan..._

His presence was as imposing as it had been when Thorfinn was a child, but this time he was grateful. Had this fight gone on further, someone could’ve gotten really hurt or worse. He gripped Einar’s shoulder. He wouldn’t pull him to the ground now, but he was grateful to feel him be alright and alive, always strong. 

With Halfdan's arrival, the situation almost immediately calmed from murderous intent to actual discussion, resolving the matter quickly— as if should've been in the first place...

"Leif!" A woman shouted, running up to them on the pier.

"You too, Tulla?" Leif exclaimed, meeting her halfway. "What are you all doing here?"

"That's _my_ question!" Tulla replied. "Where did you hear about Gudrid’s wedding, brother?”

Thorfinn looked up, blinking at Leif’s sister as she spoke. 

_Her… what?_

“Wedding?! For Gudrid?!” Leif exclaimed. 

Tulla went on to talk about the arrangement: Gudrid was the one who’d been brought to marry Sigurd… the man who’d just attacked them with a chain… Thorfinn's bleeding arm suddenly felt like nothing compared to the sinking feeling in his stomach. He looked down, failing to process it all. 

_No wonder she was trying to run…_ She just wanted to be free, and yet this was another cage she was being forced into. He remembered her words from years ago, sitting close together in the woods, keeping each other warm. 

_“I was trapped in a duty I never asked for. I felt like a bird that got stuffed in a cage, then told to be happy there…”_

She’d been speaking about her marriage to her first husband, and now it was happening all over again… He had half a mind to encourage her to run, let her board the boat with him and sail away from this place. 

But… that would undoubtedly put him at odds with Halfdan… and without Halfdan, how could Vinland succeed? His stomach churned, hating this crossroads he suddenly found himself at. Would he have to choose between Vinland and Gudrid? _Impossible._ The dead would only rest in Vinland. If any of it could be made right, it would be in Vinland… _But am I to turn my back on Gudrid?_ He hesitated to call fate cruel, knowing he probably deserved any and all cruel twists fate could throw at him… but Gudrid didn’t. And she was clearly unhappy with this situation. 

He was only jarred from his thoughts when Halfdan himself spoke to him. 

“I am impressed,” Halfdan said coldly, his face showing anything but. “Your name?”

Thorfinn swallowed. “Thorfinn, son of Thors. I met you once when I was young.”

There was a shift in his face, and Thorfinn noticed it, but he wasn’t sure what it meant. 

“Thors…? Thors, the Troll of Jom?”

“That’s right,” Thorfinn replied. “He was my father.”

Halfdan’s face soured further, and Thorfinn frowned. He couldn’t remember details from his youth very clearly, but he remembered the air being thick and foreboding that day when Halfdan had come to their home. He didn’t know what it meant, but given his reaction here, Halfdan obviously had some kind of dislike for Thors…

“You’ll need to see to your arm first,” Halfdan continued regardless of what reaction he’d had before. “Come to my home after that, Thorfinn.”

Thorfinn nodded, but Halfdan was already walking away. He bit his lip, looking down as his wound bled through the cloak, dripping onto the wood at his feet. 

_Not a great start…_ All that renewed hope and eagerness was effectively dashed in the span of a few minutes. 

_Halfdan despises my father… and Gudrid is marrying his son…_

He blew out a rough breath, clamping his hand tighter on the wound. 

“Hey,” Einer came around him, a hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”

Thorfinn glanced at his arm, then nodded. “Yeah, it’s nothing to worry about.”

“That’s not entirely what I meant,” Einar frowned, then looked back at the docks. Thorfinn followed his eyes, seeing Tulla helping Gudrid to stand. She was already reprimanding the girl for what she’d done to her hair. 

“It wasn’t like I was-!” Gudrid exclaimed, being cut off.

“Of all the things a foolhardy _fool_ could do, you do _this_ days before your wedding?!”

“Listen, sister, I-!” Her words cut off as she walked past where he and Einar stood. Thorfinn’s eyes caught hers, and she stumbled a bit in her step. His breath caught in his throat, no words coming to his mouth. She blushed, then looked away, her fingers tugging at her cropped hair. “I- it’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?! Are you insane? Are you actually out of your mind?!” The words trailed off as they walked away. As he watched their backs, Gudrid turned to look at him once more, then she was gone. 

After a few moments, Einar squeezed his shoulder again, drawing his attention back. "That sure was something…"

"That's one way to say it…" Thorfinn frowned, scratching at his hair roughly. "Leif, is there anything we can do?"

Leif blinked at him, already beginning to unload the ship. "Huh? What do you want _me_ to do about it?"

Thorfinn flushed, feeling his ears begin to burn. "I- I don't know. Aren’t you the head of her household? She- she _clearly_ doesn't want to marry Sigurd. Shouldn't you-?" He stopped, looking away. "Shit…"

Leif let out a breath. “Thorfinn, I _know._ But Halfdan made this arrangement. I think you can understand the situation if we did anything to mess with it.”

His chest tightened and he looked down. Yes, he realized. He knew the situation… and it _sucked._ There was a pit in his stomach, feeling that decision already being made for him. For Gudrid. _Choosing money over the woman I love… how low could I be?_

“Besides,” Leif said, trying to lighten the mood. “I think Tulla would actually try to kill me if messed with anything.”

Thorfinn didn’t get a chance to say more as Sigurd came over to them with the sleds. He was sullen and sour, not speaking a word to them other than what was entirely necessary. Thorfinn frowned at the ground, trying not to despise the man. 

_What do I do here, huh? What do we do, Gudrid?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Chapter 25: Barriers (Gudrid's POV)
> 
> Thank you again and again for those of you still sticking around with my inconsistent updates, delayed responses to comments (I'm working through em!!), and my lowkey moodswings... I'm so grateful!! Please keep talking to me and letting me know you're still there! I love you guys!


	25. Barriers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait... I’m just kinda dying... I’m so tired... but this chap is cute! Sorry no art rn, I’ll try and work on some in the morning

Since Thorfinn was a member of Leif’s party, he would be set up to reside with Leif’s family… namely in the place where Gudrid and Tulla were already staying while they waited for her wedding ceremony. 

She almost felt like she was trembling from the inside out, seeing Thorfinn again, holding him again. It was nothing like how she’d been imagining it for four years. It was wonderful… and alarming, distracting, heartwarming, and heart-rending all at the same time. 

Oh, and awkward.  _ So awkward…  _

It was bad enough that he’d been there as Tulla forced her to sit and cleaned up her cropped hair. And he’d just  _ stared  _ at her! He didn’t say anything! It was so  _ so uncomfortable?!  _ And why did it have to be uncomfortable?! She knew she loved him with her whole heart, and she was— maybe not sure he loved her too, but there was something _ ,  _ right? So maybe it was flattering? Maybe she felt like she always wanted his eyes on her? Maybe she was being stupid and these kinds of thoughts were getting her no where?

_ Maybe? _

Either way, she was out of there the instant Tulla released her. But she knew she’d have to return in the evening… and there he’d be, all grown up and handsome and starry eyed and he’d just  _ look _ at her, and she just wanted to grab him and feel his arms around her again, and then she’d give him the biggest damn kiss of his life—

_ Oh no no no no, stop that right now!! _

Mostly she dreaded walking into that house, because none of that was going to happen at all— but she longed for it to. She wanted his eyes on her— and she never wanted him to look at her again…

So she decided she just wanted to run away and hide in the deepest hole she could find, avoiding her unavoidable wedding  _ and _ the awkwardness of being around her teenage crush all at the same time.

And Tulla was no help either...  _ at all. _

“So that’s Thorfinn?” She’d asked as they walked towards the manor. 

“Yup,” Gudrid said, face redder than a sunset, she was sure. “That’s him…”

“Hm,” Tulla said. “Too bad Leif hadn’t brought him back a bit earlier.”

Gudrid gawked at her, flushed with either embarrassment or just pure rage.  _ H- how dare you?!  _ She hadn’t gotten any of it out of her head the whole afternoon. Her continued “lessons in womanhood,” went on like nothing had happened, so now she was clumsy, flustered,  _ and  _ mad all in one! Not to mention itchy, as Tulla wouldn’t let her take off that ridiculous wig…

Oh, and that random girl smacked her across the face for no other reason than that she existed... So yeah, she was having one hell of a day...

After all that, despite how much she really did want to see Thorfinn, she mostly just felt like sleeping. She didn’t even feel as flustered as she had before, but being criticized all day for being bad at everything would do that, she supposed. 

_ I’m just gonna go to sleep,  _ she thought, but as she walked in, she heard Leif speaking to Thorfinn, Bug Eyes, and another sailor about their plans. About narwhal horns and traveling to Greece… across the world so far away, and her tired heart longed to go, but clipped wings couldn’t get you very far. 

Their cheering stopped when they noticed her standing there. She felt like a rock, not sinking, just heavy. Resigned to it. 

“O- oh, there you are, Gudrid,” Leif said awkwardly. 

She sighed, knowing Thorfinn was looking at her too, but she just glared tiredly at Leif. Arguing with Leif was normal… easy. “You seem to be having fun. Going off to a place called Greece, huh?”

Leif bristled. “We cannot take you! You’re to be wed in two days!  _ And  _ it’s a very treacherous journey!” 

She just stared at him with dead eyes. To be honest she thought it was a bit unfair, him slinging such an accusatory tone at her. She hadn’t even  _ tried  _ to stow away… yet. 

Without a word, she just turned away, sliding her scarf off. “All I said was it sounded like fun. I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

_ This sucks,  _ she thought, feeling that heaviness as she pushed aside the hanging sheet to where her bed area was. She didn’t hesitate to fall on the bed, wrapping herself up in her blanket.  _ This. Seriously. Sucks.  _ It’s not like she wanted to be so cold. It’s not like she felt like ignoring him. It’s not like she felt like doing all of these things that were forced on her. 

_ I didn’t even look at him, _ she groaned, covering her face.  _ He’s still my friend, isn’t he? And I just gave him the cold shoulder…  _

A knock next to the makeshift door startled her, and she blinked, then turned away, figuring it was Tulla. 

“Ah sister, gimme a break, huh?” She cried, covering her face. 

“Uh,” she heard a deeper voice which was  _ definitely  _ not Tulla. “It’s Thorfinn.”

She lifted her face up, gaping at the hanging sheet.  _ Gaaaahhh!!  _ She yanked herself up so quickly she just about fell on the floor. “C- come in!”

He pulled the sheet back, a nervous smile on his face. Her ears felt hot as she tried to right her cropped hair. “H- hi!”

He nodded at her, smiling a little wider. “Hi,” he replied, walking over to her. She didn’t notice the bowl in his hand until he held it out to her. “I just thought you might be hungry, since you missed dinner.”

She blinked, looking at the soup and she felt herself blush a little deeper as  _ Thorfinn _ was suddenly standing there beside her bed, looking nervous, but still smiling.  _ His face is so cute… how did he get so pretty? _

“Uh, yeah,” she started, jarring herself from staring at him before accepting it from his hand. “Thanks. Y- you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” he said as he sat on the wooden edge of her bed. “After all, you did this for me that first time we met.”

She blinked, surprise in her. “You remembered that?”

“Of course,” he chuckled, although there was a melancholy in his face. “I remember all of it.”

She felt her heart quiver in her chest at his words, her mind going back to that time… those couple months of confusion and joy and growing ever closer. She’d never forget it, and it ached in the sweetest, most painful way, knowing he never did either. Those flustered feelings seemed to ease in her at his words. 

“I also wanted another chance to talk to you,” he continued, sliding a hand over his neck. “Today was a bit-“

“Crazy?” She smirked, swallowing a spoonful of soup.  _ Crazy, awkward, wonderful, horrible, you name it!  _

Thorfinn laughed lightly. “Yeah, crazy.”

“Sorry ‘bout that,” she sighed, rubbing her head where it had hit the dock. “Not really how I pictured any sort of reunion, or after that… I wasn't trying to ignore you or anything. I just… I just needed to…"

Thorfinn smiled a wide, easy grin. "Needed to run away?"

Gudrid laughed, smiling back up at him.  _ Gosh, he sure can smile now.  _

"I understand, don't worry," he continued, clasping his hands together. "I didn't really know what to say when I saw you again, anyway."

"I- is that so…" she said, her voice quiet, looking down at her soup. 

"Y- you've grown up," he got out, sounding just as nervous as she felt.  _ Funny, when I imagined meeting him again, awkwardness like today never played a role… We were so comfortable back then…  _ She used to talk about anything with him, hug him, hold his hand, kiss him—

"Ah- yup! And so have you!" She laughed probably a bit louder than the small cottage needed. But he really had. She wasn't sure if he'd gotten much taller, but he really looked like a grown man now. His face was wider now, more rugged with a new scar running down from his temple to his chin. His hair was cropped shorter and neater, cleaner now. Even through his cloak, she'd felt how much more muscular he was than how'd he'd been before. She could almost feel his strong arms as they were wrapped around her, just thinking about it… But the biggest change, probably the primary reason she hadn't recognized him initially were his eyes.  _ Oh, _ his eyes were so clear. They shone with soul like they never had before. Gudrid was worried for a moment she would literally sigh out loud everytime she so much as looked at those pretty, brown eyes.

Which was probably why she’d felt so weird, feeling those eyes on her, as if he could see something he hadn’t been able to see before. It was disarming and more than a little nerve wracking. But now, looking at him, she felt at ease. 

"You look happier, Thorfinn."

He blinked, then nodded, his face growing more solemn. "I've tried to come to terms with my past and my sins.” He said with a frown. “And they are grave indeed. I didn’t understand before when I was with you, but I-“ he stopped, looking at her again. 

“Happier is probably correct, but I think what I would say is more mindful."

_ Wiser, too. Gosh, he speaks so kindly. Is this even the same person?!  _

“Mindful, huh?” 

After a few moments, she realized that they’d just been looking at each other in silence, and she found that she actually felt remarkably calm.  _ This  _ is what she’d needed from him. She missed talking with him. The quiet, thoughtful conversations they’d had by a fire, looking up at the stars and dreaming of far away places. She’d missed  _ this. _

“I- I’m really glad you’re okay, Thorfinn,” she said softly, resisting the impulse to take his hand. “I’m so happy to see you again.”

“Same here,” he smiled, his eyes soft on her. “I really missed you, Gudrid.”

And just like that, she was fourteen years old again and her heart was ready to burst.  _ Oh, I love him. I really really do.  _

She laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I missed you too.”

Her thoughts raced back to that time, how they’d been before. She used to work so hard to pry even a smile out of him. Now he willingly told her how much he missed her, how much he’d thought of her and remembered her… It was so strange and so wonderful. 

But… she still had no clue where he’d been, what he was doing, or why Leif couldn’t find him again. She’d spent all that time agonizing over those questions as they swirled in her head again and again, day after day and she reached for him across the seas. 

“I just…” she started, growing somber. “What happened to you? Where did you go?” She asked, her throat tightening. “W- why didn’t you come back?” Her voice was quiet, almost pleading. 

Thorfinn was somber again, looking at her morosely. “It was my every intention to return, but I didn’t have a choice in the end.”

“You were really a slave then?”

He stopped for a moment, then nodded. “I was knocked unconscious during that battle, and I found myself in the belly of a slaver ship when I woke.”

He blew out a breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to break my promise.”

Gudrid nodded, biting her lip as she tried to push away the stinging in her eyes. “Ah- no no, you don’t have to apologize. It wasn’t in your control! I’m just-! ...I- I’m glad to know what happened… after agonizing over it for so long.”

His expression was unreadable at her words, and she felt that feeling again that he was looking into her soul or her heart, seeing everything within her. It was startling, but she didn’t feel awkward anymore. 

“I ended up being sold to a man called Ketil, and I worked on his farm. That’s where I met Einar.”

“Einar?”

Thorfinn gestured through the pulled back sheet at the man whose name she hadn’t known. She’d just figured he was another sailor, she hadn’t realized he’d been with Thorfinn. “He was a lot like you, trying to be my friend. Being kind when he didn’t have to. I was in a… worse place after I left you, and he kind of saved me, I think.”

Again, she felt those tears prick at her eyes and she smiled, clasping her hands as she felt an immense gratitude for the man now talking with Bug Eyes. “I’m glad he did.”

Thorfinn nodded again, then he continued his story. It was an amazing and tragic tale, his life in slavery. After a time, she couldn’t hold back her tears anymore, feeling the sorrow within him at so much pain and loss, all the while intermixed with such immense growth. Her four years stagnant in Greenland had felt like misery at the time, but in comparison, she was sure it was like nothing at all. 

“So that’s what we’re trying to do now,” he finished his story as the journey ended mere days ago for him at his family’s home. “Create a place of peace in Vinland.”

Gudrid rubbed her palm under her eyes, looking at him softly. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that, Thorfinn.”

“I’m glad of who I was able to become through it, but... losing Arnheid will always haunt us, especially Einar…" He paused, biting his lip as he glanced at her sadly. "But we want to make Vinland a peaceful country for her, and for people like her, so that it won’t happen again.”

Gudrid couldn’t help herself anymore. She reached out, clasping his hand in hers. 

“I believe in you,” she heard herself say, and his eyes widened at her. Then he bit his lip, giving her a forlorn smile as he covered her hand with his own. 

“Thank you, Gudrid.”

The quiet settled between them and she felt so warmed, feeling like she would melt as he looked at her so softly.  _ He’s so different. So kind. So sad and genuine.  _ It was the things she'd only been able to catch glimpses of when he was younger. Now, having peeled away the rough exterior and the hardened life, all those things were prominent within him. This is who Thorfinn was— who he'd always been, and now he showed his heart generously, shining though his face… his eyes. 

She could almost believe the rest of the world was falling away and it was just the two of them, sitting with their hands gently entwined as they just gazed at each other like they were bewitched or enchanted. Or that they were just so in love. 

…

It was Thorfinn who broke the spell this time, looking down with a sigh. “I- you said you were tired. I should let you get some sleep,” he said as he began to stand, starting to pull his hands from hers.

“No- I-“ she got out, clinging tighter to his hand as he turned back to her. “I’m... not so tired anymore. Please, let’s keep talking. I- is that okay?”

Thorfinn smiled again, and she just about melted right then. “Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some sad fluff cause I feel like it.. so tired... I wanna finish, I really really do... it’s hard ugh...


End file.
